


Owning It

by wackyninja



Category: Blue Bloods (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mortal Kombat - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Character Death, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, F/M, M/M, Scott is a Bad Friend, Scott is a Failwolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:12:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5734324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wackyninja/pseuds/wackyninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All because Scott made all his decision with his dick and sided with Hunters over his friends and family the whole world went to shit. Once again, it’s up to Stiles to save the day…all he has to sacrifice is his mortality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at the end of Season 2 of Teen Wolf, nowhere specific in Mortal Kombat (just borrowing a couple characters, really), nowhere specific in Blue Bloods, just using the characters, and begins before the first Iron Man movie (however, the Marvel movie!verse will play a role in how things chug along).
> 
> Thanks to [Icefallstears ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/icefallstears/pseuds/icefallstears)for being an excellent cheerleader/beta/idea wall

Stiles Stilinski was seated in his living room, waiting for Derek and Peter Hale to show up. Thank God Peter saw his signal to wait after that whole shit show in the warehouse was done. Dropping back into this time was jarring, and it was a lucky thing he was able to find his balance so quickly so as not to alert anyone. It felt like an abrupt stop against the wall of the ice rink when he didn't have a clue how to break normally.

Peter must be sensitive to magic, though, as he did sense that something had happened. Hell, the only reason he probably acquiesced to Stiles request for silence and patience was his curiosity.

Sheriff Stilinski, however, was sitting not so patiently in the living room of the Stilinski home waiting alongside his son. When Stiles came home with a "Dad, we gotta talk," he became anxious. Hopefully, this wouldn't turn into another night of lies and his son might actually put some trust in his old man.

"Who are we waiting for here, Stiles?"

"Derek and Peter."

"Hale?" He asked in a what he thought was a calm manner.

"Um-hum," Stiles answered distractedly, still trying to figure out the best way to break all of this to his father while texting with Derek. He needed to make sure that only Peter and Derek showed up. Everything would be ruined if that asshat Isaac tagged along.

"How about you explain to me why we're expecting the Hale's and how you even know them well enough to invite them over to our house? Last I knew, you were accusing Derek of murder."

"Right, about that --"

"Stiles!"

"What? I didn't accuse him the second time, that was all Scott." He flailed at his father. "And I promise I will explain everything from beginning to end; no more lies, no more obfuscation on anything. It's just -- they need to be here," he continued before the Sheriff could interrupt. "There's a lot to cover and decisions to be made and they need to be a part of it."

"And Scott, why isn't he here? You two are usually in it up to your necks together."

The Sheriff was shocked as his son's face transformed into one of immense anger. "Stiles, what --"

"Not now, Dad. Just --" he sighed, "just leave it alone for now, okay? Explanations have to wait until Derek and Peter get here."

Seeing the sincerity in his son (finally!) he sat back and waited for the other men to join them. "I better be getting some steak out of this, son. I have no idea what's going on, but I already know it's going to cost you steak at the least."

"There will be steamed cauliflower next to that steak and it will be eaten!"

"Oh, come on, Stiles."

"Nope, no, no, no. You want steak? Fine, I can see that being a reward for listening and _not shooting anybody_ tonight. But there will be vegetables on that plate and you will eat them! It's gonna happen, Dad, don't try to fight it." Dropping his voice a bit and putting on a blank face he says, "Resistance is futile."

The Sheriff just stares at his son for a moment before cradling his head in his hands in resignation. "You didn't just bring Star Trek into this conversation. I refuse to believe it."

"Deal with it," the young man responded, feeling a bit more lighthearted regardless of what he was about to share with his father.

Right then a soft knock was heard from the front door. The Sheriff got up to let in their guests, eager to get this night over with.

"Come on in gentlemen, I can't wait to hear what you all have to say."

Once they were all seated (with drinks, because Stiles is ever the gracious host), Stiles began his (epic) tale.

"Well, Dad, the thing is Beacon Hills has a bit of a Hellmouth problem," he explained ignoring the twin snorts from Derek and Peter, "and I just came back from 15 years in the future to make sure the world doesn't derail again." Twin looks of shock replaced the bemusement on the other men’s faces.

“Stiles, I expected better from you,” Sheriff Stilinski started ranting, “I thought this was going to be a serious talk!”

“Well, I don’t know about the time travel bit,” interjected Peter, “but the Hellmouth analogy is correct.”

“And don’t try and front here that you don’t know about the supernatural, Dad,” Stiles added, “Who do you think sent me back here? Been in touch with Raiden lately?”

Spitting out his drink, the Sheriff stared at his son in shock. “How the hell do you know about Raiden? You weren’t a part of --”

Stiles just sat there with a smug air about him, having finally gotten one up on his dad. “I refer you to the aforementioned time travel, and no.”

“Stop being a smart ass, son. This isn’t the time for it.”

“It’s always the time for it.”

“Can you two stop, please, and fill the rest of us in?” Derek asked. “Is this part of why you texted to come with just Peter and not Isaac? And where’s Scott?” The name said full of loathing, which surprisingly didn’t get the reaction everyone had expected from Stiles.

“Yeah, that asshole isn’t coming anywhere near me again. But before I explain that,” he said over the questions coming at him from every direction, “I need to explain everything that’s happening now, and how it began to my dad. And then I’m going to need all of you to help me figure out where to go from here.”

There was a beat of silence while they all contemplated exactly what could have happened in the future to make him come back, and why now.

“I need to explain to you, dad, what’s happened the last year, and I need you to keep an open mind and not shoot Peter.”

“What the hell, Stiles?”

“Stiles –“ Derek started.

“No, really. I’m going to tell you all of it.” He sat forward in earnest. “Just know that Peter has already been killed for his crimes, been resurrected, and is on his way back to sanity,” he directed at his father. “Also, he really is on his way back to being how you remember him from your childhood, Derek. Please just believe me.” With that disclaimer, he looked at Peter, and simply asked with his eyes if he was okay to continue. Getting a nod from the man, Stiles sat back and focused on his father once again.

“Right. So remember when you caught Scott out in the woods the night Laura Hale’s body was found?”

The Sheriff just sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles told his father the long and exhausting story of fucked up-ness that had taken over his life the past year with some help from the peanut gallery. When it looked like the Sheriff was about to take out his handcuffs to use on Peter, Stiles jumped up and put himself between them.

"Dude, he was already killed for his crimes as a tool of vengeance. Please remember that the Peter from the coma ward is no longer among us. I promise to explain that more in depth," he rapidly explained to the very tense lawman in front of him, "just as soon as we get the history lesson over with and move on to the future lesson."

Sheriff Stilinski again took measure of his son, his little boy who is suddenly a man, and decided to trust him. Relaxing once more, he waved Stiles on to continue the story.

"Sourwolf, ease up on the glare there, man. There are things you don't know about your uncle and his situation. We'll get to it." He hoped and prayed he could get through this whole thing without bloodshed. "Just keep your claws to yourself and let me finish this part, okay?"

Derek took his time giving in, as was inevitable. He had listed to Stiles' heartbeat throughout the story and explanation so far and nothing had registered as a lie. Surprisingly, Stiles didn't place the blame on the angry young man at all.

On and on it went without any breaks for bathroom or food. All of them just wanted to get this out of the way and find out what this whole time travel business was about.

Once Stiles arrived at the geriatric beat down, him being the recipient, his father once again tensed. "Dad, this one I will let you take care of, but tomorrow. I know where the sick fuck --"

"Language!"

"-- will be staying. I'll go with you to the station to make a report and everything. But now we come to the worst part of the whole thing, and most recent -- Scott's brilliant plan with the Amazing Alan Deaton."

"Not a fan of our local druid?" asked Peter, curious as to what could put so much derision into Stiles' voice.

"I don't trust that asswipe -- "

" _Language_ , Stiles."

"-- as far as I could throw him. When I was bringing Lydia over to cure Jackson with the power of love -- and how disgustingly sappy was that? Seriously, it was like a horror version of a Disney film with the town prince and his fair maiden. Well, if his maiden was --"

"Stiles, focus on the story. Finish this part off quickly and we can start a pot of coffee and take a break," his father offered, knowing that his son's medication was wearing off at this point.

"Right, right. Okay. So apparently, this whole time we were fighting against the Evil Argents and working to figure out what's the deal with the Kanima, Scotty boy has been working _with_ them and betraying us all left and right. Once again, Deaton fucked over the Hales and is trying to raise Scott to a new level. Scott actually thought it would be okay to use Derek's body against his will and force him to bite Gerard."

Derek's growl was low, but still heard by everyone in the room. Stiles and Peter both put hands on him in reassurance, helping him to calm a bit, still silent.

"I'll get back to all of Deaton's other misdeeds in a moment, but here he concocted this plan that would give Gerard what he wanted – a bite to cure his cancer – but then deny it to him via the mountain ash pills he was unknowingly taking. Scott decided that instead of coming to you or me or Derek about Gerard threatening his mom, that abusing the people who have done nothing but try and help him was the right path.” Stiles got up and started pacing, unable to sit still any longer with this much frustration plus lack of Adderall in his system.

“I had no idea this was going on and I would have stopped it, Dad. I really would have. Scott had no right to use Derek like that. That moron decided in the beginning of all this that Derek was a Bad Guy – can you hear the capital letters there? – regardless of the fact that he kept saving his ass, making sure he didn’t kill anyone. And as soon as all the saving was done, what does that idiot do? He runs off with his precious Allison again, ignoring the mess he’s leaving behind, and all the people he screwed over, as well. Argh!”

Seeing the agitation is just getting worse, and needing some time to process what he was told so far, the Sheriff opts to take a break. “All right, I need to think all this over for a few minutes. This is a lot to digest, but I really want to hear the rest.” He holds up a hand, stopping the questions and comments about the spew forth from his son. “Stiles, I need to hear what else has you so up in arms about Scott, a boy you’ve been friends with for over a decade. What you’ve told me so far is very damning, but I need the whole story. I’m guessing what comes next is the future stuff?”

“Yeah, yeah, from here on it’s future stuff.”

“And how you ended up hooking up with Raiden of all people? Do I get that story as well?”

“He actually sought me out, but yeah, that’s a story for later. I really need to pee, now.”

“Lovely, Stiles.” The Sheriff just shakes his head and wanders off to the kitchen to put on the coffee. Gentlemen, make yourselves at home. Feel free to get whatever you want out of the fridge. Stiles, maybe you should put in an order of whatever is open this later for all of us.”

Everyone did their assigned tasks and made their own trips to the bathroom before getting comfortable in the bathroom again.

“Right, it’s time to continue the exposition.” At this point Stiles had a pad and pen on his lap, making notes of what he needs to cover. “So first, Deaton,” Stiles began again. “The man is a druid, like I explained earlier. He was supposed to be the emissary to the Hale pack, advising them and helping them when they needed it. The problem is that after the fire, where was he? He didn’t stop Laura from abandoning Peter and the Hale land, he didn’t help Laura and Derek find their way to safety and give them the information they needed to keep things going smoothly here; he definitely didn’t make any effort to find out if any other Hales survived.” Here both the Hales sat up straight with desperate looks upon their faces. “Yes, there is another Hale or two running around, we’ll get to it in a minute.” Stiles put a hand on Derek’s shoulder once more. “Please, just let me get to it in order. The missing two that I know of are alive but not in positions for us to go running off right this minute to retrieve. Each of them has their own set of circumstances that we’re going to have to plan for so there is as little bloodshed – on our side, at least – as possible.”

After another tense moment, both Hales nodded at him and sat back again, letting Stiles continue. “Since this mess started again Deaton has made no attempt to approach any of the Hales. He didn’t even seek Derek out once Laura’s body was discovered. Instead he has been pushing Scott into a very specific position, making sure that he doesn’t trust Derek and nurturing his relationship with the Argents and now Isaac.”

“Exactly what is his agenda, Little Red?”

“Ugh, that name is not going to become a thing, okay? That can’t become a thing because it is hella creepy!”

“Answer his question, Stiles,” Derek interrupted before the two could get into a sass fest.

“Here’s the thing: Scott has the potential to turn in a True Alpha.”

“What.”

“Derek, do we need to have a talk about proper inflection when phrasing a question?”

“Stiles,” the Sheriff said, pulling his son’s focus back to him, “what is a True Alpha and why do I feel like that’s capitalized?”

“It’s a beta that naturally ascends to alpha status through force of will and strong character,” Peter answered, looking at Stiles in wonder. “Exactly how would that idiot get there? I am not impressed with any of his decisions thus far, so how, pray tell, would he become something so rare and admired?”

“Because this summer Deaton makes Scott study, train, and spend a lot of time with him to make sure that he is pushed in that direction. The thing is, though, is that there’s an Alpha Pack here in town holding three betas hostage. And here we get into more future stuff.”

“Three betas.” Derek repeats, eyes going alpha red, protective instincts urging him to make sure his pack is okay.

“Yeah, three. Chill out, Sourwolf, we will come up with a plan to rescue all of them, but you need all the information first. Rushing in there like an idiot will get everybody killed.”

“Just get on with it Stiles,” his father urged, not wanting to see exactly how far Derek’s patience could be stretched.

“The thing is, all of the problems of the future started because of Scott’s betrayal, once again, with Deucalion, and his subsequent desire to not be a killer, no matter the consequences.”

“Explain.” “Deucalion?!” came from the Hales simultaneously.

“Yeah, Deucalion, who Scott lets live regardless of all the blood on his hands. And even better, there’s also a Darach loose in town preparing to sacrifice people for power, and that’s not even the worst of it, because it’s the next event that is the most important to stop.”

“Stop beating around the bush and just spit it out, Stiles,” the Sheriff demanded, tired and stressed.

“Well, Scott becomes a True Alpha and decides that this means he can do anything he wants, doesn’t have to listen to Derek or Peter’s advice, no matter that they actually have the experience to back it up. He is so reckless and still obsessed with that psycho bitch, Allison, that he ends up exposing the supernatural to the school at large.”

“Repeat that.” Derek once again states his question in disbelief.

“BHHS gets taken hostage by a group of hunters, and instead of working with everyone on the plan and keeping everyone alive, he rushes off – shifted, mind you – to rescue his psycho bitch girlfriend who wasn’t in any danger to begin with.”

Peter was the only one to speak in the silence that followed that statement.

“I definitely bit the wrong teenager.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Sheriff just glared at Peter for a while until his son stopped flailing about and saying "Dude, not cool!" a few times.

"Just fill us in on the Alpha Pack for now, we'll go over the hostage thing tomorrow," Derek growled, patience having run out quite a while ago.

"Right, okay. Well, actually, the hostage thing might not be an issue if we take care of the alpha thing and the Darach thing now. It was all the murder and mayhem of this summer that brought those hunters here…well, and Gerard." Stiles went silent, getting lost in his own head for a bit, until his father threw a napkin at his head.

"Just a little longer, son, then we can all get some sleep and reconvene tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay," Stiles agreed and proceeded to fill in the blanks on both the current threats. It took about an hour or so, what with all the interruptions, and then the insistence that the two Hale men not rush right out to rescue their family member thought long dead.

"Okay. You two," the Sheriff directed, pointing at Peter and Derek, "need to eat and sleep and meet us back here tomorrow. I'll get the plans for the bank, Stiles can run his scenarios, then we'll get everyone safe and sound."

Everyone agreed to the plan and they broke up for night, each of them heading to get some much needed sleep.

**********

Next day.

Stiles watched his father shuffle around the kitchen putting his own breakfast together. "You seem to be okay with this whole future thing, like you have no problem believing it."

"You are definitely you, just calmer, less flail. Makes it hard not to believe."

"I do not flail!"

His father gave him a disbelieving look with raised eyebrows and everything. "I don't!"

"It's a very manly flail, son."

"Dad, not cool!"

The Sheriff simply smirked as he finished doctoring his coffee and sat down at the table.

"Um."

He looked up at his son, and put his coffee back on the table. "What."

"Uh, no. You can't absorb Derek's inability to insert any inflection on his statements that should be questions. That's just not acceptable."

"Stiles, what do you need to tell me?"

"Much better." At the glare he was now receiving he hurried on, "We might be receiving a guest today?"

"Is that a question or statement, Stiles?"

"More a guestimate. I spent a good few years with Raiden, so I just have this feeling that he'll be showing up today."

A knock at the door put the conversation on hold, Stiles getting up to answer and letting in Peter and Derek once more.

"Yes, do we get an explanation on this mystery Raiden today?" Peter asked, crossing over to the coffee pot to serve himself.

"Good morning to you, too, dude."

"Oh, my apologies, Stiles. Good morning, how are you today? What's the plan for the rescue?"

"Peter apologizes for being, well, himself," Derek said, shaking the Sheriff's hand in hello and taking his own seat. "We're just a bit anxious about Cora, I'm sure you understand." Turning to Stiles, he continued, "And we still don't know who the 2nd surprise member of the Hale family is."

"I have to go in to get the plans for the building in a little bit, but Stiles was about to tell me about Raiden."

"Derek, I'll get to that once we take care of these messes first. The second one is not in any trouble at the moment." Addressing his father, he finally gave the answers he was waiting for. "He found me in the future, helped train my gifts, and then we decided to send me back when the world was basically one big warzone of humanity vs. the supernatural. Beginning, middle, end." Stiles just continued to eat his cereal, not caring that his explanation left a lot to be desired.

"Gifts." Derek asked -- sort of.

"And how do you know this Raiden?" asked Peter towards the Sheriff.

"Ah, well, my name wasn't always Stilinski. I actually took my wife's name when we married. My maiden name is Carlton, John Carlton."

"Holy shit, you're Johnny Cage!" Derek exclaimed. "I've seen your movies. You just kind of disappeared from the martial arts scene."

"Yes, a lot happened, then I met my wife, and decided it would be safer for everyone is Johnny Cage disappeared." John Stilinski tidied up his breakfast dishes and got ready to head out. "You all better stay out of trouble -- or really, keep Stiles out of trouble for the hour or so I'm gone."

"Hey!"

"If Raiden does show up, don't let him be all cryptic and get these guys in a tizzy."

"Tizzy? Who says that, dad? Come on!"

"Shut up, Stiles," both Derek and his father replied. All they got was a wide grin in response.

*******

A few hours later Raiden had arrived, the Sheriff had returned, and plans were underway for operation rescue. They decided to split the threats between the group; Stiles and Raiden would take the Darach and the three others would take the Alpha Pack.

Midmorning was determined to be the best time go about the rescue, hoping to keep the betas from the moonlight as long as possible until they could be contained for the evening. Derek's newly acquired loft would house everyone until they were deemed safe, mostly because of the lack of neighbors to hear the growling.

Surprisingly, everything actually went to plan.  Betas were rescued and contained, alphas were poisoned, Morrell was knocked out, Ms. Blake was dispatched. Stiles wondered why all plans couldn't go like this. Seriously.

"See what happens when we're patient and plan things out?" Stiles asked, poking Derek in the side. All he got for his trouble was Alpha Eyes and growling. "Words, Derek, use your words."

"Go home, Stiles. We'll catch them up on what's happened and figure out what they want to do."

"Yeah, sure. You ready to go, Dad? Raiden?"

"Sure, we'll let them do their thing and settle some of our own issues." The last part was, of course, directed at Raiden. He really wanted to know what was going on with his old friend, and to make sure he wasn't calling for Mortal Kombat.

Once they were home Raiden was more than happy to answer John's questions while Stiles went about preparing some document on his computer.

By the time Derek, Peter, and Cora had joined them the next day Stiles was ready to move on to the next part. Once everyone was seated comfortably, Derek explained that Erica and Boyd still wanted to leave Beacon Hills, as they didn't feel safe with the burgeoning hellmouth issue. This was all fine with the Hale family, as they were considering leaving this place and starting over fresh somewhere else.

This fit perfectly with what Stiles wanted to do, and so he began explaining his own part, already knowing what Raiden wanted from him.

“You know that the next step is for me to leave this place, right?” Stiles asked anxiously. “There is no way that I, or the Hales, can stay here and survive. It’s just one shit storm after another compounded by Deaton's plans.”

John sighed, “Yeah, son, I figured that. Do you know what you want to do?”

"Yeah, and we’ll need Aunt Pep, as she'll be able to help coordinate and execute my plans here.”

Trusting that his son knew what he needed if he was willing to bring another person in on this, he went ahead and started getting a hold of his late wife's best friend. The Hale's, however, were a little tense about bringing someone new in. "Aunt Pep isn't an idiot, but we don't need to fill her in on all the werewolf stuff, it's mostly her organizational skills and contacts that I'll need for this next part," he quickly explained to make everyone relax again.

"All right, Pepper, you're on speaker phone with Stiles, Raiden, Peter, Derek, and Cora Hale, and myself. I'll let Stiles take over from here."

"Hi, Aunt Pep! I hope you don't mind me skipping the small talk, as were in a bit of a time crunch here."

"No problem, sweetie, just tell me what I can do to help."

"I know you know that I've been holding myself back in school because of Scott and his jealousy issues when it comes to me doing anything better than him." This was news to a lot of people in the room, but they let it go for the moment. "Without going into detail, I no longer care what Scott wants or likes and would rather get going on my education with the speed that's best for me. Also, this place isn't as safe as it once was, and I think Dad would feel better if I relocated."

"Um-hum, right. Anywhere in particular you'd like to go? What course of study are you leaning towards?" Pepper was all business as she starting going through possibilities in her head.

"I'm thinking forensics, trace and computer, maybe mechanical engineering, who knows? Also, folklore and mythology. I was thinking New York, by the way, and also entering that program for geniuses to test out of high school and start college earlier. Do you think we can swing all that? I want to be able to go to a school that will work with my learning speed, you know how I soak up knowledge and all that."

Pepper was silent for a moment, keys clacking in the background as she did some searches. "Okay, yes, we can do all that. I'm going to get you registered for the test, you can take it here in California at the end of July, and then we'll see about you getting into NYU. We'll meet with an advisor there and get your courses squared away."

Everyone was quite impressed with how quickly everything was happening, but stayed silent. They knew that they could figure out their own plans once Pepper was off the phone.

"Great, can you send me all the info, please?"

"Of course, Stiles. I'm copying your father on it. And Stiles? You better be coming to stay with me until the test happens."

"Excellent idea, Pepper," John interjected before Stiles could protest. "No, Stiles, you just said it yourself. ‘this place isn't safe anymore.’" Stiles just nodded, giving in graciously for once. "Pepper, when do you want him out there? Is this going to be a problem with your boss?"

"No, Tony probably won't even notice. Have Stiles show up here once the school year is out. That's in about a month, right?"

"Yeah, that works out well for me. Thanks, Aunt Pep! I promise to bake some cookies in thanks."

"They better be the peanut ones, mister. I'll be in touch as the time grows closer for you to come out here. John, I'll call you later about more details."

"Thanks so much, Pepper. You have no idea how much stress this alleviates for me and him."

"Anything for family, right? Take care of yourselves."

Once Pepper was off the phone, the discussion began on who was going where and what they would do when they get there. It was decided that Stiles would get a new phone, leaving his old one behind so he couldn’t be traced. It had the side benefit of tracking when, exactly, Scott would notice that he was gone. A quick call back to Pepper and the new phone would be registered under Stark Technologies to keep his name and location safe. John wanted to get Melissa in on everything, but both Stiles and Derek begged him not to, citing her inability to go after her son for all the lies and ruining any chance of a peaceful getaway.

“Stiles, you will need to retrain, as you are back in a younger body. I will head to New York and set up a space for us. We will need to awaken your gifts some more, as well. What that druid was thinking, I have no idea. An emissary should never be thrown into things without some instruction like this. He could have gotten you killed!”

“Calm down, dude. We’ve already had the ‘Deaton is not trustworthy’ talk and we’re all on board with it. I know we need to train me up again, which we can do while I go to school. Everything will work out.”

“You’re training him as an emissary?” Derek asked, happy to finally be getting some answers on the gifts front.

“Of course he is, nephew, do pay attention. “ Peter just sat there looking all smug, as if he knew everything that was happening, going to happen, and why. “How else do you explain him training up that idiot so well, or his ability to manipulate mountain ash?”

Derek just sat in silence and thought about it while Cora just sat in silence all confused. “You’re both going to fill me in on everything in detail, right? I’m feeling a little lost.”

“Of course, Cora, we’ll take a road trip to one of the packs allied with Talia and explain everything. As a bonus, maybe your brother there can get some training himself.”

“Why don’t we go home so we can figure it out amongst ourselves? My head hurts from all this information and it’s been a crazy few days.”

“Agreed, Derek,” John said, also feeling the last few days catch up with him. “I’m going to get some sleep before my shift starts. Raiden, you’re welcome to the guest room. Stiles, go to bed.”


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles felt like his life was an 80s movie montage the way things were going for the last month. Stiles and his father heading into the station to file the assault complaint against Gerard Argent; watching as Scott was once again obsessed with Allison and completely ignoring his existence and everything that had happened so far this year;  Raiden and he starting on his emissary training; Peter and Derek getting all their legal stuff settled for banking and insurance, Cora getting caught up in school; doing katas with his dad and Raiden.

Stiles had asked Derek what was the deal with his four betas, because God forbid he forgot about Jackson, and all he got was the usual glare and a "Shut up, Stiles." Peter, thankfully, filled him in on what was what. It seemed that Boyd and Erica didn't want Derek as their Alpha, they wanted someone more in the know about what the fuck they were doing; Isaac was already sniffing around Scott (and Allison) and seemed to forget he even had an alpha in Derek; Jackson's family was moving across the country to get away from scandal. Stiles was still undecided on whether or not that was a good thing or if he now felt some sympathy for the king of douches after being used a murder tool.

It probably shouldn't be so easy for him to just cut off ties with Scott, except for the part where Scott was the idiot that started the downfall of everything and he couldn't forgive that, no matter how many times he might give him the puppy eyed look. He knew that the jerk blamed him for a whole bunch of stuff to his mom, which explained why Mrs. McCall didn't want her son hanging around him -- jokes on her, though; Stiles wasn't the corrupting influence in that relationship. 

But really all Stiles thought of when Scott’s name came up was watching his fellow classmates die because Scott didn't follow the plan -- a really fucking simple plan that Pinky wouldn't have had a problem with -- ran off to rescue his psycho bitch girlfriend, and not care that he was shifted and getting photographed by anyone with a cell phone. His insane appearance was replayed all over the world as the example for feral werewolves, making them an enemy of just about everyone.  Add that to his epically bad True Alpha attitude, where no one was allowed to have an opinion or object to his plans, or kill in self-defense, and their friendship was over before senior year had started. Besides, who can trust a guy who keeps choosing Hunters over his friends and family?!

Stiles refused to live through all that again, and would do anything to keep it from happening. However, at the moment, he was focusing on his own new future. When his father questioned why he wasn't going for the route that would end with him having a badge, Stiles explained that with his Adderall dosage it wouldn't be safe to be on the job like that. What would happen if he was crashing from his dosage for the day, but still on shift? He would be next to useless to his partner. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take, so he would do what he could to help out those policing the streets from back in the lab. Besides, research was his bitch, and no one had Google-fu like him. He would be studying for his degrees along with studying for his pack position. And damn if he wasn't going to make the Hale's enter therapy…soooooo much therapy.

The next few years were going to be all kinds of interesting…as long as he could keep the world from going to hell. Besides, he still had to deal with the price of being sent back in time with the allowance to change history.

Stiles was definitely not looking forward to that conversation…with anyone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Major Character(s) Death in this chapter.

Two years later

All Tony Stark knew was that Pepper was crying. It wasn't crying over a sad movie, tears of relief, or crying out of frustration because of, well, him. This was grief, pure unadulterated grief. He carefully approached her, hoping -- perhaps in vain -- not to piss her off and upset her any more than she already was.

"Pep? What's wrong? What happened? JARVIS, what happened?"

"She received a very upsetting phone call, sir," replied his AI.

"Oh, Tony, he's been killed! He's really dead! How could this happen? And Stiles, he's the only one left." She sobbed into his shoulder for a few minutes while Tony tried to figure out the proper response. Even after he got back from his every so lovely kidnapping she hadn't fallen apart like this.

"Um, I'm sorry about him dying, Pepper. But --" Pepper tensed in his arms -- "who exactly is this 'he'?"

Pepper relaxed again, stood back and wiped her eyes while explaining, "John Stilinski, the husband of my best friend growing up. He and I stayed close after she died, and I became Aunt Pepper to his son, Stiles. You know this, Tony, you even met him a few times."

"Was this before Afghanistan? The weird kid who talked too much?" Tony recalled a couple of meetings with the kid, but nothing stood out. Then again, he was usually drunk or involved in his project of the moment.

"Yes," she answered, exasperated. "That is Stiles, and he is not weird, Tony." Beginning to put herself together again, she started making plans for what had to happen next. "I need some time off, Tony, about a week. I need to get to California so he can be buried tomorrow. They're doing the autopsy this evening and Stiles will need me there to help while he sits shiva."

"He sits what?"

"He's Jewish, Tony, and there are rules and traditions that have to be followed. They weren't an observant family by any means other than here and there, but this tradition I know John wanted followed." She started packing up her stuff so she could go home and fill a suitcase before flying out. "JARVIS, please book me a flight to Beacon Hills, California, nearest airport, and a rental for when I get there. I need a couple hours to get my things together and actually get to the airport." She got out her phone to text Stiles her plans and that she would see him soon. Oh, maybe she should call one of the Hale's?

Tony interrupted her train of thought with a scoff. "No way, cancel that, JARVIS. You'll be taking the jet. Do you need me to come with you?" Already he was on a computer looking up any news about the death. She had said he was killed, but he wanted to know details.

"No, if you don't mind please stay here. I might need your help coordinating things for him. The insurance, the house, packing everything and shipping it here to New York. I'll call you when I arrive and some decisions have been made."

"Right, right," he was already distracted by his research. "JARVIS, take care of the rental, please, make it something nice."

"Of course, sir. My condolences, Ms. Potts, on your loss."

"Thank you JARVIS," Pepper said with a sniff, her eyes still red from crying. "I'll be in touch, Tony, bye."

*******

It had started out as a nice vacation. Stiles had just gotten his bachelor's degrees, yes he had more than one, and came home to celebrate with his dad before continuing on with his post-graduate work. New York was sort of lonely with only Peter there at the moment. Derek, and Cora were with another pack, allies of the Hales, training and learning more about their positions, lore, tradition, et cetera. Also, they were getting therapy. Allllll the therapy. Perhaps Derek would come out of this speaking whole sentences at a time and making questions actually sound like questions. Who knew? Impossible things happened every day.

Living in New York was hard at first, Peter having only joined him a year ago. School was really interesting, and training with Raiden was beyond interesting and completely frustrating at the same time. It felt fantastic to have the freedom to study at his own pace and design his own curriculum. The college had been very accommodating once his test scores came through. The problem was making friends at a level above acquaintance. It felt wrong because they weren't pack, and they also weren't people that he considered potential pack.

Sure, the other packs around the five boroughs introduced themselves to him, and completely unsubtly provided protection while his pack was indisposed. Nothing felt as good as when Peter came to join him in the city while studying to be reinstated to the bar. The Hales and Pepper had together bought a whole building right in Manhattan, dividing the floors up between them so they each had their private space but still lived together. It also had the added benefit of Stiles not needing to live in a dorm, where security could not be guaranteed. With Stiles' penchant for getting kidnapped and/or threatened, the dormitories would just not do.

John Stilinski was glowing with pride when he picked up his son from the airport. It was a relief that his son was finally living up to his potential, despite what pushed him there. He was surprised at the difference being away from the influence of Scott McCall and the Argents had on his son. Stiles was looking healthy and happy and also excited for when Derek and Cora would join him and Peter in New York.

"Hey, Daddy-O! Give your favorite son a hug."

"You're my only son, Stiles."

"It's how I know I'm your favorite," Stiles cheekily replied. Retrieving the luggage and maneuvering out of the airport maze to get home was something of a trial, but both men were too overjoyed and having some time to spend together in person to really care about it. It had been hard being away all this time, but they made the most of it. Stiles still heard all the gossip about town, learned about the new players in his dad's office, and so on.

The two of them caught up over dinner, and exchanged a few gifts. Stiles' 18th birthday had been a month prior and he couldn't be happier. While he hadn't met anyone he wanted to date in New York, not wanting to get anyone arrested for paying him any attention was kind of important.

About three days into his father's vacation time the two of them found themselves having breakfast with the rest of the deputies not on shift at the diner. Some good natured teasing and requests for stories filled the air while they all ate.

And of course, because things were going so well did it turn into one of the worst days of Stiles Stilinski's life.

They were departing the diner, jokes flying left and right, mostly at Stiles' expense, when they heard the cry.

"Somebody please help me! Please!" Deputy Jordan Parrish spotted the little girl first: approximately 6 years in age, light brown curly hair, green eyes, pale complexion.  She was running from the other side of the parking lot, veering towards them once she saw the badges and uniforms. "She's trying to kill me! Please, help me!"

Sheriff Stilinski caught her, and tried to calm her down. "It's okay, sweetie, we've got you. You want to tell us your name? Who is trying to kill you?" The little girl was sobbing too hard to be able to answer and instead just clung to him. It was then that they saw who the perpetrator was.

Allison Argent was running towards them, bow and arrow already in hand.

Stiles looked the girl over again and reached out with his magic to do a check, and yes, she was a young werewolf. The Sheriff shoved the girl behind him and had his gun out while Allison headed towards them -- he never left the house unarmed anymore. "Put the weapon down, Ms. Argent, you are not hurting this child!" he called out to her. His deputies fanned out, all of them had their weapons drawn.

"Sweetie," Stiles whispered to the child, "how did she find you? Where is your pack? Did someone in your pack break the code or did she just show up and start killing?" The little girl, who still remained nameless, shook her head vehemently when asked about breaking the code.

"She found us playing around in the forest," she explained brokenly, still crying. "She didn't care that we weren't doing anything, she just starting shooting." She clung to Stiles legs in desperation. "I want my mommy!" she wailed.

"Allison! Put. The weapon. Down," his father demanded, all of officers taking steps closer to her while speaking.

"No, she has to die!"

"Did she break any sort of code or law?" the Sheriff asked, hoping to get close enough to grab the weapon before something regretful happened. He made sure to keep himself between the weapon and the girl, though, not wanting to take any chances.

"Get out of the way! She's going to die!" And with that, Allison just fired. Stiles pulled the girl to the ground and shielded her with his body. The next thing he heard was gunshots and then -- quiet.

"Dad?" he called trying to figure out what was going on. "All the deputies were blocking his view of his father and Allison. Since they were all doing so with their weapons down, he assumed it was clear.

Getting up, and then helping the little girl, too, they walked closer to where the officers were.

"No, Stiles, stay back. You don't want to see this," Deputy Parrish said gently, trying to block his view. Stiles ignored him and pushed his way around, handing the girl off to him.

"Dad? Dad? Dad!" he could feel the panic attack coming on as he finally saw what everyone was crowding around. He ignored the ambulance sirens getting closer -- someone must have called it in when Allison first showed up -- and the other deputies protesting his presence right now. He ignored Allison Argent lying dead and bleeding out from multiple gunshot wounds.

He wanted his dad -- his father, the only family he had left in the world -- he wanted his dad to not be laying in front of him with an arrow in heart.


	6. Chapter 6

Nothing existed outside of the scene in front of him. No sounds were getting through, no pain from landing on the asphalt so abruptly, nothing. It was just Stiles and his father -- his father who was not breathing, not moving, not anything.

It was nightmare come to life.

He didn't even realize he was screaming, that he was crying until Jordan pulled him back from the Sheriff and towards to the ambulance. How could this be? How could any rational thought occur right now other than his father was dead. His father was dead.

"Stiles!" the voice seemed to be coming from far away, but Stiles saw the deputy's lips moving in front of him. "Stiles, you need to calm down and breathe for me, okay? I can't have you passing out right now. Andrea refuses to go to the hospital without you, and she won't speak to anyone but you." Stiles just looked at him in confusion, his brain still not catching up with reality. He did notice, however, that Parrish's face was wet with tears, as were most of the faces of the men and women who worked with his father. "Please, Stiles, go with her for right now. I promise we'll take care of him, please."

"His body can't be left alone. It's against custom. He needs to not be alone until the Rabbi comes." Stiles didn't know where it came from, but he remembered the rules, memorized them when his mother died. Oh, God! His father was dead and now he had absolutely no one. What the fuck was he going to do?

*******

Four hours later Pepper Potts and Peter Hale walked into the hospital to find Stiles and take him home. Pepper had already found out what was happening with body and had the Rabbi take control once the coroner signed off. Since there was video evidence and plenty of witnesses things went fairly quickly in that department. Sheriff John Stilinski, formerly John Carlton, also known as Johnny Cage, would be buried in the Jewish cemetery according to custom next to his wife. Thank God John had a living will, this way no one could mess up his final wishes.

There was so much to do! First on the list was getting Stiles home and helping him prepare the house for shiva. Peter would help with the paperwork, Derek and Cora would handle guests once they got into town, Tony was organizing a moving company to pack up the house on the 8th day after the funeral and move it to a storage area in New York. She just had to keep busy. Keeping busy meant not having a breakdown because at least one person had to stay steady today to make sure it was all taken care of.

******

Peter was feeling hollow, a man he greatly respected was now gone and who knew how this would effect one of his favorite people in the world besides incredibly badly.

_He was just enjoying his coffee at the corner café, reviewing notes for an exam coming up next week when he got the phone call. It really was quite tedious that he had to retake these courses and the bar exam to return to practice. Who cared about six years in a coma? It's not like he lost his memory, for God's sake!_

_But then the phone rang. The phone rang and it was Pepper informing him that the fucking Argents had once again murdered someone he cared about. He felt not an ounce of remorse in the satisfaction of knowing that the bitch Argent got her due, as well. But John was dead and Stiles witnessed everything._

_He made plans to go home and pack and meet Pepper at the plane. His emissary needed him._

*******

Tony managed to catch Derek and Cora, letting them know what was going on and where they needed to go. Just as he hung up with them Pepper called. He was expecting a crying Pepper or just very upset Pepper -- what he got was a furious Pepper.

"Tony, I need you to get me some security, and I need you to get it here now," she demanded, the fury completely evidence in her voice.

"Pep, are you okay? What's happened? Did someone threaten you?" JARVIS was already fulfilling her wishes as Tony listened to her explain. Having such a fantastic AI, if he did say so himself, was very handy most of the time.

"The little shit that killed John? Yeah, apparently she has lots of family friends who are here 'visiting' and more on the way and they are looking to take revenge. Since they can't get to the Sheriff anymore, they are gunning for his son." She let out a little scream of frustration while she paced. "There is a lot more going on here than I knew, a lot more that lead to Stiles leaving here than any of us knew."

"Pepper?"

"Tony, I think you need to call Coulson."

*****

Stiles didn't really remember coming home from the hospital. He remembered Peter and Pepper arriving, sort of, and Peter helping the little girl -- what is her name, again? -- find her pack and getting her safely away. Apparently followers of the Argent psychosis were starting to show up and he was a target.

He felt like a hollow zombie going through the motions, just doing as directed by his moral support. It just couldn't be real, it just couldn't.

******

_"Pepper, if you're going to head to Beacon Hills to help Stiles with this, there are things you need to know."_

_"Is this a glass of wine conversation or a couple fingers of whiskey?" was her only reply. After everything with Tony, nothing could possibly shock her._

_"You'll need more than just a couple fingers. Pace yourself, though, my dear. This story will take longer than the glass will last."_

******

The funeral was a quiet affair. Lots of people came out to support Stiles, but they kept silent out of respect, listened to the Rabbi say what he needed to say, threw some dirt on the coffin, and then left after giving their condolences to the grieving son.

Derek, Peter, Cora, and Pepper all went back to the Stilinski house to help out as guests would arrive. Stiles still felt separated from reality, but took the comfort his pack was offering. Apparently, Peter had  filled Pepper in on everything on the plane ride over, so she was prepared to fight off the hunters trying to harass him. The deputies, who -- surprise! -- were also in the know helped her coordinate shifts until the security Tony was getting would arrive. She hoped she made the right call with getting Coulson involved, but she wasn't leaving it up to the Hales. It would just cause them more trouble.

Stiles was picking at another plate of food -- what the hell was going to do with all this food? -- when a very unwelcome guest pushed his way into Stiles' space.

"You killed her! You killed Allison! She's dead, Stiles, and it's all your fault!"

Scott McCall stood there basically frothing at the mouth in anger and grief at his former best friend, full of blame for what happened the previous day. Everything came to a standstill in the house, everyone paying attention to the little scene happening between the two young men.

"Are you fucking kidding me, here?" Stiles asked in a low voice. Well, if anything was going to snap him back to the present, he guessed this would be it. "Are you fucking kidding me right now you motherfucking asshole?" He got louder as he stood up, physically pushing the idiot away from him. "Where the fuck do you get off coming into my house while I'm in mourning and accusing me of something you damn well know isn't true?" Stiles pushed him back once again towards the front door, everyone getting out of his way. Derek and Peter quietly made their way towards the pair hoping that Scott didn't completely wolf out during the argument.

"Are you really standing there defending your psycho bitch girlfriend and accusing me of killing her when you know for a fact -- when we ALL know for a fact -- that she was the one doing the killing? And you sure as fuck know that I wasn't the one to kill her, that would be the officers responding to an imminent threat and her killing an officer -- _my father_ \-- for no reason other than _he wouldn't let her kill an innocent child_! What the ever loving fuck is wrong with you?"

"You're supposed to be my best friend!"

Stiles just looked at Scott in shock for a moment. "I didn't think it was possible for you to get any stupider, but never let it be said I can't admit when I've been wrong. You have to be the biggest moron I've ever known." Once more he shoved him towards the front door. "I stopped being your best friend the moment you chose to think with your dick instead of your brain! I stopped being your best friend when you decided that trusting that psychotic family instead of your own was a good idea! I stopped being your friend when it took you _four Goddamn months_ to realise I was gone, and that was only because you needed a ride somewhere!" He gave him one more shove, having made it to the front door, finally. "Scott McCall, you get out of his house, you are not welcome here. You haven't been welcome here for the last two years, and that won't be changing any time soon. All the fucks I had to give about your precious Allison flew out the window years ago, and I'm not gonna go looking for them now."

Peter and Derek "helpfully" assisted Scott in leaving the domicile before he could utter another word, Pepper and Cora coming up behind Stiles to hold him while he trembled with fury.

With friends like that, who needed enemies?

 

 


	7. Interlude

 

It was all over the news, there was no escape from the reality that his father was gone. This wasn't what he imagined would happen when he came back in time to save the people he cared about.

******

"Coulson."

"Phil? It's Pepper. What do you know about werewolves?"

"Excuse me? Run that by me one more time, please?"

"Apparently I've been friends with a werewolf pack via my 'nephew' who is currently being targeted by overzealous psychopathic hunters."

"Your nephew -- I'm assuming the air quotes that I can hear through the phone means it's not by blood --"

"Best friend's son."

"-- is also a werewolf?"

"No, Peter called him an emissary."

"He's an em -- fuck. Hold on, Pepper." Coulson pulled out his tablet and typed out a message to a security team to relocate to Pepper's position.

"That kid is never going anywhere alone ever again."

"He has plans to travel to Europe and Japan as part of one of his masters that he's going after."

"We'll assign him someone."

"I'm guessing he underplayed his role?"

"And then some."

*******

"Deputy Parrish, any updates on the investigation?" Peter asked quietly, watching the room of people giving their condolences.

"I got a warrant for all her property, devices, and email to see how long she was hunting that family. Turns out she's been getting letters from dear old grandpa and also visiting him on the sly. He's been poisoning her mind for the last two years quite freely."

"No wonder she went off the deep end so thoroughly. There wasn't any semblance of sanity that I could see in the video they showed on the news."

"I really wish they would stop showing that clip. He shouldn't have to relive it every time he turns on the television."

"We all appreciate you keeping the press off the property."

"No problem, we all love the kid. What about your place in New York?"

"Ms. Potts and members of the neighborhood are taking care of it, no worries."

*******

"Stiles, why is Agent Coulson so freaked out about you being an emissary?"

"Ah, well --"

"Tell her the truth, Little Red, she needs to be prepared if we're to continue having these pests harass us," Peter interjected.

"I'm their advisor," Stiles stated simply.

"You're more than that and you know it, idiot." Derek, as per usual, was glowering at Stiles as they all tidied up the house again after the day's visitors had left.

"Stiles is our advisor, our healer, our conscience, and our sanity," supplied Cora helpfully.

"So if something happened to you --" Pepper began, and immediately the wolves tensed at even the thought of something occurring to their emissary.

"If something happened to me, the pack would go nuts to either find me, help me, or avenge me."

********

"Agent, any chance you're going to fill me in, here?"

"No."

*******

"Mr. Argent, you are not welcome here, especially not when you're drunk."

"Get out of my way, Deputy."

"No. Deputy Jones, please ensure Mr. Argent gets home."

"No problem, Parrish."

*******

"Mr. Stilinski, this is Agent Coulson. I'm sure Ms. Potts has mentioned me. I have some questions for you --"

"This isn't a secure line."

"A phone will be given to you within the hour."

*********

"Derek, where's Raiden?" Pepper asked the alpha.

"He will meet us back in New York. He is in China at the moment visiting someone named Liu Kang. He said they would be waiting for us when we returned, there was no way he could be here in time."

"Who is --"

"Another friend of the Sheriff's from before he got married."

********

"Oh Alpha, my Alpha, are you returning with us?"

"Cora and I will join you in a week or so."

********

"Gentlemen, can we help you?"

"We came to pay our respects." Deputy Parrish looked them over, not liking what he saw he decided to get rid of them as quickly and quietly as possible. The Sheriff had given them all a thorough talk about what it meant to live in this county and the type of people they might come across.

"They aren't accepting visitors right this moment. Please leave."

"Oh, his boy won't mind seeing us, will they, men?"

"Yes, they will mind. Thank you for respecting his wishes and leaving. Now." About five more men in black security uniforms appeared surrounding the supposed well wishers.

*****

Pepper helped pack the last of his things that he would be taking immediately and sat on his bed. "As soon as we get back to New York you are giving me -- and probably Tony by this point considering the annoying texts and messages I've received -- a thorough explanation of everything that's happened in the last four or five years."


	8. Chapter 8

Three years later.

Police Commissioner Frank Reagan was very curious about what Tony Stark could possibly want to speak to him about. He hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't about doing favors or writing off tickets. Did he get arrested recently? Do something completely moronic while drunk that he wanted buried? Why didn't he have more info on this meeting? Detective Baker just announced he was coming in, quietly, but gave no details.

"Sir, he's here," she said, opening the door and letting the man in question enter.

"Welcome, Mr. Stark," Frank said, gesturing towards a chair. Tony was dressed business casual in deference to the Commissioner's rank. He didn't want to come off as disrespecting the man by showing up in greased up jeans and t-shirt from working on his cars.

"Thank you, Commissioner. I'm sorry to barge in on your schedule like this, but I had some information for you that you probably need, but others deemed local law enforcement not in the 'need to know' group."

"You're speaking of security?"

"In a way. See, I'm not here to ask for favors or anything tabloid-y like that, I'm here because you hired a certain young man to your labs --" he broke off at the raised eyebrow -- "no, he's not a problem, don't worry. But you hired him and he's going to be excellent, but you need to know about the security around him so you aren't surprised. Like I was. Because apparently, not letting me know that someone needs protection when they're out and about is a minor detail to some."

"You sound a little put out there, Stark," Frank said, wondering where exactly this was going on who exactly they were talking about. "Why don't you start from the beginning? Drink?"

"Actually, if you have some coffee, that would be great." Tony joined the Commissioner on the couches, getting comfortable for what was probably going to be a long discussion. "Tell me, Commissioner, what do you know about emissaries?"

"Damn it."

*******

It had been three years since his father -- since his father -- since he had lost his father. Three long years full of throwing himself into training, into school, and into making New York his home. Two years ago Raiden had passed him off to other teachers around the world while he worked on his Master’s and Doctoral degrees. He had made a promise to his father before he left California to go as far as he could in education and not join the force, in any capacity, until he was over legal drinking age. So Stiles did.

He had been to China, Japan, Russia, Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Ireland, England, Israel, Egypt, and random areas of Africa while putting together his multiple theses. He had, of course, learned the languages of the countries he was in, studied their mythology, spoke to the local supernatural representatives -- for some reason, they had all heard of him. What the hell?

Derek, his sourwolf Alpha, had let Tony Stark redo all the security on their building so that SHIELD and Pepper and him would be notified if there was an issue. They all had a long talk about Stiles not being alone, having a pack to depend on, and what type of security concerns there were for an emissary. The fact that there had been multiple kidnapping attempts seemed to support their position.

In any case, he was proud to be graduating today with two more doctorates and another masters. He was probably waaaaaaay overqualified for his chosen career, but who cared? An idle Stiles is never a good thing under any circumstances.

So yes, he was graduating today and next week would be the beginning of his career with the NYPD forensics unit. He expected quite a few things for when he started working there, new guy  and all. What he did not expect was the NYPD Commissioner, Frank Reagan himself, to show up on his doorstep.

"Emissary Stilinski, I'm Commissioner Reagan. It's an honor to meet you." He held out his hand to shake, which Stiles readily accepted while stepping back to let him inside. "I think we have a few things to talk about before you start your job next week."

"Um, Stiles is fine, sir," Stiles said, still confused as to what the hell was going on and how the hell did the top man in the NYPD chain of command know his status? "Did you want something to drink? Coffee, tea?" He felt silly standing there in his pajamas, tattoos glaringly obvious -- and why didn't anyone warn him about that when he began his training -- and barefoot.

"Coffee would be great, thank you."

"Please have a seat while I get it for you. I'm a little confused, Commissioner," Stiles began as he got the coffee ready, "about how exactly you know about my being an emissary and why you are here at all. It's not like I'll be in the field or anything -- or if I am, it would be rare -- so I should be safe in the labs."

He brought over a tray with the coffee and sat across from his future boss. "Well, Stiles, we haven't had an emissary on the force in at least a decade. Sometimes certain people do run into the supernatural, and it's good to have a go to source should we need it. I hope you're okay with filling that role on top of your regular position."

"Um, yes, no problem." The NYPD knew about this stuff? "Research is kind of my thing," Stiles said as he pointed to the filing cabinets full of his research papers.

"One thing of many, I hear. You're a bit overqualified for the forensics unit, Mr. Stilinski. You're graduating with how many degrees today?"

"Oh, um, two PhDs and another M.Sc., sir."

"Exactly, and that's on top of the three Bachelor's and two masters you already have if my information is right."

"I promised my dad I would wait until a certain age before joining."

"Yes, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Stiles replied quietly. It was still like a punch to the gut every time he thought about his father.

"So here's the bottom line. We have excellent security set up in the labs, but if you need to leave the lab for work then you must take someone with you. No going out on your own." He held up a hand to stop the protests about to spew out of the young man in front of him. "I've been made aware of the kidnappings, the attempted kidnappings, the attempted murders, and the contract that was put out on you a couple years ago and then canceled. I keep the people who work for me as safe as I can, and you're not an exception to that rule."

"Yes, sir." Wow, this dude was just -- if he was a werewolf, he would have been an alpha for sure, thought Stiles. "There will most likely be  SHIELD agents in the unit by the time I get there, as they are aware of what I am, as well. I do request, though, that you keep this to yourself. I don't want to come off as a special case before I even step through the door of the building." In fact, Stiles would try and make himself as invisible as possible. Worse thing he could do would be to stand out.

"I think I can handle that."

******

Frank sat in the living room with a glass of whiskey, book on his lap without being read. His father, Henry, found him there with his own nightcap.

"You want to tell me what's wrong? You've been quiet all night."

Frank just looked at his father, wondering how much he should say. But his father had had his job before him, so maybe he could help. "Do you remember the last time there was an emissary on the force?"

"Are you shitting me? There's an emissary on the job?"

"Well, he'll be in the labs. Kid is 21, fluent in a ridiculous number of languages, an expert on DNA and computers, and I suspect a love affair type situation going on with research." Henry gave him a confused look at that last part. "No, seriously, Pop, he has multiple filing cabinets full of research papers he wrote just because he could."

Henry let a long breath release at the news that whoever it was was not going to be in the field. "You better keep it to yourself. I'm serious, Frank, the only people who should know are Baker, you, and Garrett. Find some way to keep in contact with him that won't single him out and bring notice, and make sure he never goes out alone."

"I already know that, Pop. I'm just --"

"What?"

"I'm wondering if I should tell Danny, just so that there's someone in the field who knows."

"Does Danny know about that side of things?"

"Does Danny know about what side of what things," Danny Reagan asked from the doorway.

"Damn it!"

*********

Chris Argent was finishing up surveillance on his target. That little shit was going to pay for completely ruining his life, him and his fucking pack.

Once that was done, he could get rid of that other annoying shit, Scott, who was still following him around. How that idiot had made it this far in life without dying from lack of brain activity, he'd never know.

********

"Stiles, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean, Derek? Nothing's wrong."

"You're doing that 'shit's gonna happen' twitchy thing."

"Aren't you the eloquent one, Alpha mine? Did they teach you to speak like that when you were getting your English Lit degree?

"Oh, shut up, Stiles."

"Now, now, children, play nice." Peter walked in the door looking every bit the lawyer he was. "What seems to be the problem now?"

"That's what I trying to figure out, Uncle, but Stiles had decided to play innocent."

"I'm not playing anything, dude," Stiles exclaimed, flailing about while trying to get up from his chair to pace. "I just don't know what the problem is yet. The only thing I do know is that there is a problem to begin with and it's against the pack. When I know more, you'll know more."

"Don't call me dude."

"Right, like that's gonna happen."


	9. Chapter 9

Peter Hale looked around his new office space. Working for the District Attorney's office was a definite change of pace, but one that would make his whole pack happy. It definitely bothered Talia that Peter had defended criminals before, her sense of justice being insulted. He had been working here for approximately two years now and was quickly becoming a go to guy for the tougher cases.

Peter knew how to manipulate with the best of them, how to get people talking when they didn't want to without resorting to any kind of physical threat. It was his talent, so to speak. But some situations didn't call for manipulation; some situations called for honesty, because at this point in his life -- after all the trauma and tragedy he'd been through (and caused) -- he wanted an honest partnership. He had mourned his wife, he had mourned his child, and while it still hurt to think of them -- of all the family, really -- he was building something good here and it was time to find someone new.

There was a scent around the office that was completely enticing and mysterious. He had yet to find the owner of said scent, but he would one day.

Except someone with a related scent was approaching his office now. Interesting.

"Mr. Hale?" a tall man said, knocking on his door, "Mind if I come in? There's a few things we need to discuss and it was easier to locate you than your nephew."

"Please, Commissioner, have a seat. What can the Hale pack do for the NYPD?"

******

"Why do I have to clean the den floor?" whined Cora as she picked up stray papers and other objects.

"Because we're going to have guests tomorrow," answered Derek for the fourth time. "We're each doing our own part for this."

"And what's your part?"

"I'm making dessert, Stiles is cooking the main meal, and Peter is taking care of appearances when you are done cleaning."

"I have other things to do, you know."

"This is for pack security. A couple hours out of your day to clean the space and do your part is not a hardship, Cora. Stop whining like a five year-old. And catching up on Dr. Yang and Dr. Hunt's relationship drama is not exactly what I would call important."

"Ha! I knew you watched that show."

"Oh, shut up."

**********

"There is some protocol that Mr. Hale imparted to me for dinner tomorrow," Frank said to his son, Danny. "I need to know that you won't ignore it. This is important, and I don't want to insult a group that could be an ally for the Department. If we insult them, it's possible that we'll alienate all the packs in the city."

"I know, Pops, don't worry. I've run into a few werewolves before and haven't had a problem. They were all family people and not looking to hurt someone, even helped rescue some kids from a collapsed building. Just tell me what I need to know."

"Thank you.

***********

Frank and Danny Reagan, and Abigail Baker entered the third floor apartment of the Hale's building to an amusing scene.

"Why do you always speak like a villain? A British one, at that. It's like you went to How to Be a Creeper Villain 101, and aced creepy speaking styles sure to mark you as the bad guy."

"I didn't attend the school, I'm a professor there."

"If I go downstairs and turn over that one portrait by the kitchen window I'm gonna find a shrine to Severus Snape, aren't I?"

"Pshhh, give me some credit, Little Red. Wilson Fisk is more my style."

"Enough." Derek interjected, hoping to stop the snark fest those two were on, knowing it could continue for ages. "Our guests have arrived. How is it that Cora is the only one acting her age?"

"Oh, I can change that!" Cora chipped in.

Danny Reagan was shaking with laughter but trying to hide it. His worry that these people would be stuck up was for nothing.

With a sigh, Derek turned back to the guests. "I'd apologize for them now, but it's best to wait until the end of the evening to encompass everything all at once," he said to them with a smirk. "Commissioner Reagan, Detectives Reagan and Baker, let me introduce you to my pack. Cora Hale, my little sister; Peter Hale, my uncle; and Stiles Stilinski, our emissary."

Everyone shook hands and moved to the dinner table. Stiles brought out the appetizers as they settled. They all waited for Derek to take a bite before beginning on their own plates as per protocol.

"Thank you for having us here, Alpha Hale," the Commissioner said to Derek. "I hope you don't mind if we mix business with the meal or we'll be here all night?"

"That's more than fine, Commissioner Reagan. Please, call me Derek."

"Thank you. In private like this you can call me Frank."

"Thank you. "

"Now, as I told Peter, Tony Stark came to visit me a couple weeks ago --"

"Oh, no, what did he do?"

"He wanted me to be aware of the security concerns surrounding your life, Mr. Stilinski. Particularly this issue with hunters. I'm hoping we can work together to root out the non-code following ones both from the NYPD and just in general."

"I definitely like that idea," Stiles said while reaching for more salad.

"Where did you get this food? It's fantastic," commented Detective Baker, adding some more roasted eggplant with garlic to her plate.

"Stiles is the main cook in this house," offered Peter, seeing Stiles' shy smile at the praise.

"It's a hobby," he said simply.

"Kid, if you ever got leftovers, feel free to donate to my desk," Danny said, liking his food, too. He could smell the main course and could already tell it would be delicious.

"So, my son Danny here is a detective at the 1-2, and Abigail is the detective assigned to me. Either of these people can reach me with information if it's needed. Also, they're the people who will contact you if I need some assistance," Frank explained to the room at large.

"Did you know that your protections on your buildings are broken?" Stiles asked, clearing away the first course to get ready for the main course. "I noticed it when I was doing my interviews. I was hoping to get your permission to fix the ones I have access to."

"Do you know which buildings need them? Are any of them okay?" Baker asked, taking out her tablet to make notes.

"1PP and where my lab is, and also where Peter works."

"What do you need to fix that?"

"Some privacy, a drink and deli sandwich to replenish my electrolytes and energy afterwards."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"We can arrange that," the Commissioner agreed, making eye contact with Baker to have her get on it. She nodded her acceptance of the order.

"How about you come by my station house tomorrow so I can introduce you to Baez, my partner, and also my captain, just in case you need to find me?"

"Yeah, okay," Stiles replied, setting out the brisket, mushroom and barley, sweet potatoes and salads.

"Introduce him to Jamie and  Sergeant Renzulli as well. I'm pretty sure all Sergeants are in the know, but Jamie probably has no idea." He turned to Stiles in explanation, "Jamie is my youngest son."

"I'll take care of it," Danny said.

"There's something you need to understand about the future," Stiles began, hating to have to bring this up at all. Around when I turn 30 I am going to stop aging."

"By stop aging do you mean just cosmetically or as in --" Baker began.

"I mean that I'll effectively be immortal. It's a consequence of a ritual I did. That's a way longer and more depressing story than we need to get into right now. I just thought it prudent to get it out there, maybe a plan can start being made on how to deal with it with all of us working on it."

"Baker, make a note and we'll brainstorm another day."

"Yes, sir."

"Do you by chance have someone in DA's office as well?" Peter asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, my daughter Erin. Haven't run into her yet?"

"No, I haven't quite had the pleasure yet. I'll make sure to remedy that this week."

"He's right, you do talk like a Brit bad guy," Danny remarked, much to the amusement of everyone.

**************

A month later and Stiles had gotten comfortable with his new job. He made sure not to show off his intelligence level like an asshole, and did his best to keep his rambling to a minimum. It was better to ease them into his quirks instead of shoving it in their faces.

Stiles mostly worked on the vehicles brought in or the computers. No translation was needed yet, so those skills hadn't been brought to light. There was -- unfortunately -- plenty to keep him busy, so his more annoying traits via ADHD weren't so glaring as usual.

It also seemed like Tony Stark had given a donation to the labs, as all the equipment was state of the art, and no one was complaining. He made sure to send Tony a thank you, for which Tony replied it was only right. He then went on to complain about "Agent" a lot, which made Stiles wonder if there wasn't a big old man crush happening there.

SHIELD was keeping quiet, not interfering much unless they needed some research done here or there.

He'd been introduced to everyone Danny had said he wanted him to meet, had coffee with him a couple times to pick each other's brains. It was turning into a nice sort of friendship.

***********

Scott couldn’t believe how well the Hale pack was doing. Those traitors, they should all be paying for Allison's death. Stiles should pay for his mom not speaking to him anymore and kicking him out of the house. He didn't understand, how could she not see that it was all Derek and Stiles' faults?

He staked out the roof of the building next to theirs trying to figure out a way in when a police officer came up on him. "Hands in the air, turn around nice and slow."

"Sorry, Officer, I was just trying to get some air."

"Uh-huh, tell me another. You're under arrest for attempted breaking and entering, trespassing, and I'm sure a few other things. Put your hands behind your back." He was cuffed and read his rights, hauled downstairs and into the waiting car.

Man, he hoped Chris wasn't too pissed about this.

Stiles was going to pay for getting him in trouble again.

************

Stiles entered Commissioner Reagan's office, very curious about why he would be called up here. Nothing supernatural had occurred as far as he knew.

"Am I in trouble? Because I don't think I've done anything to be in trouble. Lately."

"Have a seat, Stiles," offered Frank. Beside him on the couch was Danny, Derek, and Garrett.

"Uh, Derek, what are you doing here?"

"Just take a seat and listen, okay?"

"Sure thing, alpha-mine." Stiles sat down, umpteen scenarios already running through his head being created and discarded just as quickly.

"When you first got the job, you remember I mentioned at that dinner that Tony Stark had given me a folder about security concerns?"

"Yeah, yeah, we spoke about hunters and other types of people who would or have come after me."

"Right, well, it seems one of those past issues has come back into play."

"Past issues? Derek, which issue are we talking about here, are you okay?"

"Everyone is fine, I'm fine. The problem is that Argent is back and he's been stalking you, picked up some new playmates."

"How long has he been here? What's he been up to? Who is he playing with? How did you even know?" Stiles questions shot out rapidly and with increasing volume.

"The thing is, son, you know one of his new playmates."

Silence. Stiles ran through everyone he knew that Argent also knew and one name shined brightly above them all.

"Scott's here, isn't he." Derek came around and put his arm on Stiles' shoulder, pulling him in for a half hug.

"Yeah, the idiot's here, and he's decided to play for the other team."

"And?"

"And it looks like he's still working with Argent."

" _And_?"

"And it looks like to cover all his bases, you've been green lighted."

There was a moment of silence before Stiles just leaned forward, head touching the table.

"I should have written him off as soon as I learned he'd never seen Star Wars."


	10. Chapter 10

He didn't think it was possible for Scott to actually get _dumber_. In the original timeline Scott had taken it upon himself to better himself, get better grades, make better decisions -- not that he really did.

Stiles wondered if long, long ago -- four years -- the Moon Goddess had heard his and Raiden's prayers -- probably Peter's as well -- for her to not grant him True Alpha status and the reasons why.

He watched his former best friend from the observation area at the precinct. He didn't particularly want to talk to the guy, but Scott's hate for all things authority was very well known by his pack. They explained it quickly to Danny and Baez when he told them they wouldn't have any luck breaking Scott. "His father is a douche FBI agent, fulfilling all stereotypes you've heard. So now he equates any male authority figure with his dad, no matter how much they are trying to help, and female authority types with his mom, who kicked him out of the house three years ago."

"So what do you suggest then, answer man?" Baez asked, frustrated at Scott's mulish behavior. "And why would he follow Argent if he doesn't like male authority figures?"

"Ah, well, Mr. Argent is Allison's dad, so therefore he is correct in all things and his goals are righteous."

"You're kidding me, here," Danny said in disbelief.

"Nope! I bet he's even blaming me right now for everything that's happened. Did I tell you about how he blames me for Allison's death?"

Scott had been yelling his name in holding, making a racket, blaming him left and right for his troubles. Stiles was just happy he hadn't shifted accidentally.

"How exactly can that idiot blame you for her death? You didn't shoot her, right?" asked Danny's captain.

"Yeah, well, here's the thing," Stiles began, noting that quite a few detectives and officers were listening in, "dear sweet Allison was killed by three deputies. What Scott seems to forget is that said deputies worked for my father, the Sheriff. He also forgets that they shot her in return after she fired on my dad, killing him instantly." Here everyone stood straighter, almost at attention, at the news that this guy in the box was defending a cop killer. "He also forgets that dear, sweet Allison killed my dad because he wouldn't get out of the way so she could murder the six year-old girl that came running to us for help. Seems Allison had already gotten her brother and dad, mom wasn't home, so she wanted to finish off who she had there." Stiles could feel Scott's glare through the mirror, not caring that he could hear every word being spoken.

"Scott decided that the perfect time to let me know how he felt about Allison's death was while I was sitting shiva at my father's home."

Everyone in the room glared right back at Scott, even though he couldn't see them. "So what's he doing here, then? Trying to kill you?" someone asked.

"Oh, no, Scotty boy probably can't kill, would be too scared to. No, I'm betting that he was playing scout for Mr. Argent. Now, there's a man who has no problem killing. At all."

"You know this?"

"Yeah, there's probably loads of bodies to his name, but because his family had connections to all sorts of law enforcement -- and I'm talking men and women who joined specifically for that type of reason, to cover up his family's business -- there's no mention of him in reports or the like. His whole family is batshit insane."

"Right. Maybe we should take him back to holding, do a little research," Baez suggested.

"Great idea. Officer, why don't you and a friend take him back down to holding. Don't let him out of your sight and keep a few people with you at all times. He's stronger than he looks."

Danny, leaned back on his desk for a few moments while Scott was lead out of the room, cursing Stiles the whole way. Stiles, the little shit, was holding up cards rating the insults until McCall was out of the room completely.

"Sounds like we need a board and some storytelling, here, so we know what we're dealing with."

*************

Once the digging began, it became extremely clear that this wasn't just a few bodies here and there. Once Stiles helped input where the family had been and when, the NYPD analysts were able to match up Argent appearances and relocations with missing and/or dead people all over the country.

"Uh, Commissioner, I think we're going to need to call Homeland in on this. And I'd like to do it before McCall's FBI agent father gets here to make a mess of things." Stiles had told Danny about McCall's grudge against his father, especially since his father had helped Mrs. McCall kick him out of the house.

"Do it. This is horrific. Stark's file didn't have the Argent family history in it."

"Oh! I should call Tony, he probably does have a file on them, and it would save time," Stiles volunteered, wanting to get this whole bullshit drama over with.

"Go for it, I want everything he knows," Scott Pierce said from the end of the table. The analyst was just too happy to get some outside help, who knew one family could have such a kill count?

"Should I get Peter in here, too? He might know more than me about the family and about other families like theirs."

"I'll have Erin bring him over. We're going to need to know legal courses of action as well."

****************

Turned out getting Peter in on it was the right move. He had more information about families that allied with the Argents over the years, those that thought like them and those that broke away out of disgust. Gerard had been a busy man, and not as careful as he thought.

They were able to attribute 482 deaths to Chris Argent alone, 956 to Gerard, some of those overlapping. Kate Argent was well into the three digit range. Thank God Gerard had died in prison -- Stiles had made sure it wasn't a fake out -- and Kate wasn't going to rise again because Peter and helped him burn the body.

****************

Rafael McCall was trying to find out what was going on with his son. He had been alerted that he was under arrest in New York, but nothing more than that.

"Melissa? It's Rafe, please don't hang up."

"What do you want, Rafael?"

"I was just alerted that Scott's in jail in New York. What's going on?"

"Is that where he is? Interesting. Well, I'm sure as hell not paying his bail."

"That's it? That's all you have to say about our son?"

"He is only your son in name. And of course you have no idea what's going on with your son, as you've been missing from his life for a good decade and a half. Why show concern now?"

"…"

"Yeah, that's right, you've had nothing to do with us, so don't go all holier than thou on me on this, Rafe. Scott turned into something and someone I don't know. I kicked him out years ago, and you sure as hell wouldn't be proud of him. And don't you dare go and bail him out. That boy has to learn there are consequences to his actions."

"Does Stilinski have something to do with this?" he demanded of his ex-wife.

"John? John's been dead for three years, you asshole, and it was Scott's girlfriend who did it. Read the fucking news." And with that she hung up.

"What the fuck has been going on?"

*********************

"You know," Stiles started while the pack ate dinner together that evening, "I don't think Scott or Chris know that I'm your emissary. I'm pretty sure from the way Scott was ranting and raving that they still think I'm the normal one and just a tag along. Maybe we could use that to our advantage?"

"No, we're not putting you at risk that way," Derek stated, brooking no argument. "We're going to reach out to the allied packs in the city, see if they can help us nail down who he has with  him for help, who he has hired for the contract and give all the information to Detective Reagan so they can take care of things for you."

Stiles stared at him for a bit letting the plan run around his brain until finally nodding in agreement with his alpha. Ever since his training time with the Harrison pack Derek was actually a good alpha who knew when to be dominant and pull rank, and when to sit back and let his pack do their own thing. He welcomed opinions from them all and didn't try and intimidate them anymore.

Well, unless Cora stole the Oreo's again.

*******************

"Okay, what've we got?" Commissioner Reagan asked of his people the next morning. Somehow word had leaked to everyone involved that Stiles was an emissary and that he had been working on fixing the protections on all the station houses. Anyone who goes that far out of their way to help when they don't have to, and to do it quietly, deserved their help staying safe, never mind that he was one of theirs.

"Stiles and all his contacts came through, and we now have a more complete picture of the Argent family slayings."

"Slayings? Really?"

"Well, what would you like me to say, massacre? Spree? Arbitrary murder hunt? Combined, Commissioner, the Argents have killed approximately 2000 people and gotten away with it for three generations."

Mr. Pierce's statement silenced the room as they all swallowed that information. If that was only three generations, what had the prior ones done?

"We actually do have hard evidence, evidence that wasn't lost in chain of command or purposefully lost, contaminated or whatever over the years. I know we were gearing up for some big takedown, but we have enough to straight-out arrest Christopher Argent on multiple counts right here in New York. He also has warrants in California, Arizona, Nevada, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia --"

"Okay, we get the picture," interrupted the Commissioner, relieved that it would be that simple. Suddenly a loud beep filled the air. "What was that?"

"Um, that would be my email. Sorry, sir. It seems that Mr. Stilinski decided to send us an early Christmas gift." With that, Scott Pierce put up on the large screen the photos Stiles had just mailed him along with a list of names. "These would be all the gentlemen that Argent has backing him up, their faces and names to match. Also, the possible contract takers for the green light on Mr. Stilinski. How the hell did he get all this? Why isn't he working for our department?"

"A good question. You can ask him if he wants to split time, but I think he's happy in the labs taking things apart. He has a good head on his shoulders, a keen mind that doesn't really stop working."

"I think I'll have a conversation with him once this is over."

"Have at it. Okay, people, what's the plan? Can we find records on any of the people in the photos? Erin, can we bring them up on conspiracy charges? Do we have all the evidence?" His people got to work.

****************

"Erin, Peter, thank you for joining me."

"Certainly, Commissioner. What can I help you with?" Peter answered.

"No problem, what do you need?" Erin said at the same time. Peter did his best to concentrate. This was the woman whose scent was driving him crazy. It had taken everything he had not to put his nose in her neck and take a sniff yesterday. He would have to find out from the Commissioner how much she knew.

"I need this conversation to stay between us. Did either of you have any resistance anywhere when it came to getting warrants for arrest on this case?"

"We decided that I would be the requesting ADA as Peter has a past history with the Argent family. We had a couple of problems which were quickly resolved when Peter found that they were on Argent's payroll. Payments were traced back through a ridiculous amount of shell corporations to one of the companies the Argent family halted operation on a couple of years ago. We've got them isolated, arrested, and awaiting questioning."

"Excellent. Please send me those names so I can compare to some of the officers I found trying to stick their noses in. I don't want any of these  people getting away, no one like that deserves a spot on my force.

"Yes, sir," they both responded before parting ways.

********************

Arrests started being made in large groups where possible, most of Chris's backup being taken away. All that served to do was to make him even angrier. Scott was in jail, his men were disappearing left and right. He needed a new plan.

One that left no room for any result other than Stilinski's death.


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles was sick and tired of being inside. Every day for the last week he had been practically held captive either in his lab or at home while the search for Chris Argent continued. He needed movement, he needed air, he needed freedom. And he needed it now, damn it.

He called up Tony, as Pepper was still out of the city doing business, to see if he wanted to come with him to a pickup game of lacrosse, for which he quickly agreed. "But I don't even understand it," Tony whined as they walked towards the field.

"Don't understand what?" Jamie Reagan asked from a few feet away. He was dressed in running shorts and a t-shirt, looking to have already been exerting himself.

"Stiles wants me to watch him play lacrosse."

"I don't want you to watch me play lacrosse, Tony. I want you to play with us, learn the game and then join in."

"Uh, yeah, no. I'll sit in the stands and watch and be confused from there." He pointed to the stands on the far side of the field. "Let's just hope that at some point it all makes sense and I'll no longer think you're crazypants." With that, he marched off to the stands leaving Jamie and Stiles alone.

"How have you been? Dad and Danny told me about what's been going on."

"Ah, yes, my own personal stalker issue. I've decided to rename him Edward. Isn't it just so much fun? I've really grown to love and care for all the people that have been not so subtly guarding me." Stiles gestured to a couple of men not too far away in plain clothes.

Jamie laughed quietly and shared a small smile with him. Stiles shyly smiled back and turned to walk to the field where the other players were.

"Do you know how to play?"

"No, never played. I was just with Danny's kids playing some football."

"Oh, um," Stiles flailed a bit not sure where to go from there, nervous for some reason. "Did you want to watch with Tony? Maybe explain to his thick skull what's going on?"

"Sure, no problem," Jamie agreed easily, thankfully not noticing Stiles' awkwardness.

"Right, okay. Well, see you later, then." Stiles quickly walked towards the other players, putting everything out of his mind.

The good thing about playing on a team half full of werewolves? It definitely ups your game and skill level.

************

Lt. Sid Gormley just sighed the sigh of the weary as he sat down at his desk again. His people were having no luck locating Christopher Argent, and this needed to be solved. In no way was it acceptable for there to be a green light on one of their own.  He was using a burner phone, most likely, so they couldn't trace him; he was using cards under an unknown alias -- if at all -- so they couldn't trace him; he probably relocated once McCall was arrested, so they couldn't trace him. This wasn't a pattern that he liked.

************

Stiles was enjoying the hell out of this morning. He was playing a bitching game with normal people who weren't Jackson, thank you very much, and having a blast. So who could blame him for not seeing the problem before it was on top of him?

************

Chris Argent did his best to seem casual and like he belonged as he neared the field.

************

Jamie was laughing at Tony's commentary on the game that still confused him. He didn't think hanging out with the genius billionaire would be like this.

But something stopped him cold, bringing Tony's focus on him. "What? What is it?"

"I need you to stay calm so we don't alert anyone. Call 911, tell them that Argent has been spotted, give them our location." Jamie didn't wait for confirmation, he just casually, but quickly made his way off the stands and circled around to come around from the back of Argent. He quickly sent a text to his brother and father to let them know the situation, as well. He signaled the two plain clothes police officers to follow him, regretting not having more than his ankle piece on him.

He crept up behind his target, seeing that he did something, but not knowing what, and announced himself. "Christopher Argent, put your hands up and turn around. You are under arrest for multiple counts of murder, conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, attempted kidnapping, assault --"

"Fuck you!" Chris said interrupting him, charging him. If he was going to go down, he would go down fighting.

"Stiles!" Jamie heard Tony yell, but he ignored it as he met the charge and got underneath the other man, flipping him. As soon as Argent was on the ground, Jamie turned him over to cuff him. "Stay with him," he said to the officers, not wanting to let the guy move. "Check him for any and all weapons, and I mean check thoroughly. He's known to hide things everywhere."

The officers acknowledged him and started their search, finding a scary amount of knives, syringes, razors, and wire.

It took only a matter of seconds for Chris to be hauled off and taken towards more officers waiting, apparently a squad car was nearby. "Hold up, don't take him anywhere until more backup arrives, please. We don't know if there are more."

Jamie finally looked over to the field where Tony was leaning over a prone Stiles, yelling at people to back up and give him space. More sirens were wailing in the background as Jamie got the guarding officers to sit on the stands with Argent while he went to check on Stiles.

As he neared his new friend, he saw what had alarmed Tony so much. Stiles was lying down on his back, hands clawing at the ground next to him in pain from the knife sticking out of his chest.

*******

The waiting room was full of people impatient to hear about Stiles' status. The Hales were prowling around the perimeter of the room while the Reagans sat down in the front, not wanting to miss the doctor when he came out. Tony was on the phone to Pepper while Coulson kept SHIELD updated. Between SHIELD and the NYPD, the hospital was the safest place to be right at that moment.

The EMT's had been grateful that Tony and Jamie had managed to keep anyone from pulling the knife out before they arrived; it was probably what saved his life.

A young doctor came into the room asking, "Family for Stilinski?" He was very surprised when a room full of cops, Tony Stark, and a few others all stood up. Derek stepped forward and explained, "Stiles doesn't have any living blood relatives, but I do have his Power of Attorney." Derek handed over the paperwork.

"You mentioned a Stiles, but I have Perzem -- Perz --"

"How do you say it?" Danny asked Peter absently.

"You don't. Hence why he goes by Stiles."

"Doctor, he likes to go by Stiles, much easier to say. Now, please, will you tell us his status? We've been waiting here for hours." Derek did everything in his power to remain in control and not shift in the middle of a hospital out of frustration.

"Yes, well, the good news is that we were able to repair the damage from the knife. It luckily did not hit any major organs, but it did chip one of his ribs which did knick his lung. Everything is fixed to that extent."

"But?" asked Commissioner Reagan, stepping up beside Derek. "There was a definite 'but' in there."

"Ahem, yes. Um, it appears that the knife was coated with some kind of poison. We're looking now to see what it is and treat Mr. Stilinski, but at the moment we have placed him in a medical coma to keep him stable until the cure is found."

Jamie put his head between his knees and just breathed to keep himself calm; Danny punched a chair; Cora hugged Peter to keep both of their faces hidden; officers started grumbling; both Derek and Frank took deep breaths before responding.

"Do you need anything from us right now?"

"No, we should have an answer soon, hopefully. Is the young man an officer?"

"No, he works in the forensics lab."

"Oh, okay. "

"But that doesn't make him any less one of us," Danny said, anger still evident in his voice.

"How long is not long?" Derek asked.

"A few more hours, probably. You should take this time to go home, get some rest, maybe bring him back some clothes and something to keep busy while he's here the next couple of days. I want to keep an eye on him to make sure there are no side effects once the cure is given."

"I'll take care of getting him some stuff, I know you don't want to leave right now," Danny offered. "I'll go with you," Jamie volunteered, not wanting Danny to go off anywhere alone at the moment. He was liable to take it out on some random jerk on the street with prejudice.

"Yeah, okay, kid, let's go." The other officers started working out between themselves who would stay to keep the others updated.

"Derek, please let me know as soon as you know anything new," Frank requested, getting his things together. "I'm going to go home and update the rest of the family and get something to eat."

"Yeah, thank you for being here, sir."

"I wish we didn't have to be."

"We all wish that," Derek said staring at the closed doors the doctor had returned through trying to hear what was going on.

"Don't strain yourself right now, they'll tell you once they know," Tony told him, coming around to get Derek sitting and calmed down. "How about I get some food over here for those of us staying?"

Murmurs of agreement went around, and Tony ordered some pizza.

Inside the hospital, Stiles dreamed violent dreams of the future he left behind.


	12. Chapter 12

_Stiles was sitting in a café enjoying a latte while waiting for Liu Kang to show up, he was going to take him to meet Raiden. Stiles knew that he needed some sort of training and he had found some stuff about the man in his dad's papers._

_Four men burst into the café guns blazing, not caring who they hit. "You freaks! Die like the animals you are!" It had been happening more and more lately. Stiles overturned the tables and tried to drag the other customers behind them, yelling for them to get down and take cover.  One of them men seemed to take interest in him and was doing his best to kill him. Stiles just willed all of them out, to be pushed out of the store. That's all it takes, right, according to Deaton? To believe? Well, here he was believing with everything he had that those assholes needed to go._

_Before his eyes the four men were thrown through the glass storefront and away from them. Before he knew what he was doing, Stiles was up and grabbed one of their guns, shooting all four of them before they could regain their senses._

_"Everyone get out of here now. If you've been hit, let me know immediately, we'll find a place to take care of it."_

_How many more innocents were going to be killed like this?_

********

Linda Reagan was once again checking in on Stiles, knowing how much her husband liked him, respected him, and mostly was entertained by him.  She smoothed back his covers, fixed his pillows and tried to quiet the obvious nightmare he was having. He was supposed to be in a medical coma, but that didn't seem to stop his mind from wandering to scary places.

********

_Cora was still throwing up, nothing seemed to be working. Stiles didn't understand what could affect a werewolf like this._

********

He was clenching and unclenching his hands, which seemed abnormal, and also whimpering. She checked his chart once again to be sure, but yes, he seemed to bring himself out of the medically induced state. As she was about to leave to get the doctor he shot up, eyes open, and muttered something quietly: "Mistletoe."

She called the doctor and then rushed out to the waiting room to check with Derek Hale if that meant something.

**********

_Stiles was running as fast as he could to keep ahead of the Supernatural Enforcement Unit. Fucking asswipes had been hunting in this area for a week now and already he had come across two dead selkies, a dead werewolf, and a tortured and dying kitsune. It was disgusting what the world had become, what the government had allowed to happen. Anyone who spoke out against the new rules was eliminated without hesitation._

_He had to get to Raiden, they had a plan to fix all this. Ahead of him a child's head was blown apart by a sniper shot with exploding rounds, the mournful howls of her parents cut short by their own deaths. Stiles couldn't stop crying as he ran on, doing his best to stay under cover so as not to be a target._

_Government sanctioned genocide, that's all this was._

***********

Mistletoe. Derek and Peter shot up from their chairs, making Linda take a few steps back. "Quickly, just tell me what it means to you."

Peter put a hand on Derek, letting him know he would take the lead. "Mistletoe is a poison, as you know. But in the -- in our  world, mistletoe is specifically used as a weapon. People like Stiles, they are extremely susceptible to it, and hunters --" here he stumbled a moment -- "hunters like to coat their knives and bullets in it to make it more effective."

Cora came around and hugged Peter from the side. "Argent knew exactly what he was doing with that knife. He prepared it for maximum effect. It's people like him that are the reason there are so few emissaries around."

************

_"You understand that this will take a lot of discipline, time, and dedication." Raiden sat in front of him having agreed to train him in his gifts. "You must learn to harness the energies around, own the power given to you."_

_"I have to own them, make them mine."_

_"Exactly. Let us begin."_

******

"Stiles." The voice was coming from far away. "Stiles, you need to pull it all back, you're going to fry the whole floor if you don't control yourself."

*****

_They were all dead. His father was dead, the Hale's were dead, the Harrisons were dead. The werewolf population was whittled down to 5% of what is was, never mind the other species._

_It was just death. Death everywhere you looked._

*********

"Stiles! Control it!" demanded Derek, worried about what would happen if the field of chaos going on in Stiles' room spread out further.

"Stiles, own the power, make it yours," whispered Peter. He'd heard Raiden use the same phrase during Stiles' training.

Papers stopped fluttering, the machines stopped beeping incessantly and the tension in the air died down.

"Stiles, can you hear me? Can you try opening your eyes?" Derek asked, taking hold of one of Stiles' hands. Linda she had ran back to the doctor immediately after their explanation, filled him in on what they thought the poison was and he in turn ordered coal treatment to start with. It took another 10 hours before he was completely stable and clear of the poison. Now, they just had to wait.

"Sourwolf?" he asked groggily.

"Yeah, Stiles, I'm here."

"Little Red, don't you scare us like that again," Peter said, having hold of his other hand. Cora was holding onto a leg, all three doing their best to keep the scenting subtle so as not to freak out the others.

"Mr. Stilinski, it seems like you really are the trouble magnet Peter claims you to be," Frank remarked, obvious signs of relief on his face.

"It's not so much that I'm a magnet for trouble as trouble just finds me extremely attractive," Stiles replied, coughing a little. The nose cannula was really itchy and he wanted it gone, but the oxygen was nice. "Does anyone want to fill me in?"

"Argent decided to attend your scrimmage, wanted to give you a gift," Danny started. "Instead, he gave us all the nice gift of getting himself arrested for -- at the minimum -- attempted murder of a member of the NYPD, and as a bonus  it was in full public view. Jamie got back up on the way, Tony called 911. No one saw the knife he had until he had thrown it, getting you right in the chest there."

"He's all locked up and the judge has denied him bail already," Frank added.

"Wait, how long have I been here?" Stiles asked, coughing a bit and trying to reach his water.

"It's been about three days now," Derek answered, still not completely calm even knowing that Stiles was going to be all right. He grabbed the cup of ice chips and placed a couple on Stiles' lips.

There was a bit more discussion on the details, but he was getting pretty tired. Everyone there gave him their well wishes and started to leave to go about their day. The pack stayed, of course, not wanting to leave him alone.

All of them were happy that the last of the Argents was taken care of.

Maybe now they could live in peace? Pretty, pretty please?

Oh, Lord, Stiles hoped he didn't just jinx them.

***********

"Coulson, what did you need me for? Stiles is still in the hospital and I want to go see him. Pepper is flying back tonight to see him, as well."

"Sorry, Stark, thought you might want to see this."

"See wha -- oh. Oh, _oh_! Am I looking at what I think I'm looking at?"

"We found him. We've found Steve Rogers."

END ARC 2


	13. Chapter 13

Stiles shuffled to the door  wondering who was visiting him now. He was comfy in his worn t-shirt and sleep pants and was hoping to just screw around online and research all day. It had been a while since he had time to just play with research.

Opening the door, he was surprised to find Jamie Reagan waiting for him on the other side.

"Hi there, Stiles, I was just wondering how you were doing and everything," Jamie said, feeling a little silly. He didn't know why he came other than it felt like the right thing to do. He stood there awkwardly until Stiles realized that he should invite his guest in. He liked Jamie, found him a soothing presence, and a safe one. He shoved that thought to the back of his mind and focused on the present.

"Tea? Coffee? Soda?"

"You don't have to play host for me, Stiles. I just wanted to check in with you."

"You on shift soon?"

"No, it's my day off," he told Stiles as they got comfortable on the couch. "So how have you been? Are you coming back to work soon?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in another 10 days, I think. I'm going crazy here, and the pack won't let me leave the building without one of them with me; I think they've gone a bit hyper-protective since everything happened. Not that I can do much at the moment other than walk slowly and sit slowly and laugh slowly." His hands in the air expressing all his frustration, Stiles just sighed and fell back against the couch. "What about you?"

"Ah, life has been normal, you know? Work, family, sleep, eat, repeat." Jamie turned to his host with a hopeful look on his face. "I was hoping you could answer a couple questions for me about hunters, if you don't mind."

"Peaked your curiosity on the supernatural, eh? Sure, why not? Come to my research area and we'll see what I can pull for you while you ask your questions."

"You're gonna let me leave again, right?"

"We'll see," Stiles responded with a smirk.

*************

Over the next couple of weeks Jamie had returned to Stiles' home quite a few times for more answers, more research, and most importantly, more of Stiles cooking. Sometimes they ate alone and sometimes with the rest of the pack. It was nice, actually. Jamie had pretty much let work become his life, other than meals with his family. But here with the Hale pack, he felt at home and at ease.

Stiles was interesting, and smart, and an asshole and waaaay too honest about some things. But that's all right when it isn't pointed in his direction. Peter -- or Villain, as Danny has taken to calling him -- discussed law with him, always playing the devil -- not the advocate, just the devil -- keeping his education fresh and forefront. He really enjoyed the time spent there, and maybe it would continue.

*************

A few weeks later Danny stood at his crime scene, looking at the woman lying on the altar, all arterial spots slit open so she could bleed freely by the killer, and knew exactly who he had to call in. "I want photos taken from every angle so we get a complete picture of the writing." Hell of a first day for the kid to come back to.

**************

Stiles was in his lab area picking apart a housewife's computer -- a housewife who had taken up corporate espionage against her husband's competitors without his knowing -- or at least that's what he claims. He bopped his head along to his music as he combed through the files, separating out the encrypted data from the bullshit. A paper ball smacked him on the side of the head, bringing him out of his little world abruptly.

"What, what, what?"

"Need you to look at some photos, tell me what it is exactly we're looking at."

"Danny, are you completely incapable of being pol -- hello, first day back present." Stiles grabbed the rest of the photos from Danny and spread them on his desk so he could see all of them. "Wow, you're dealing with one hell of an amateur."

"What are you talking about? All that is an amateur?" Baez asked. "That's a hell of a lot of work from someone who doesn't really know what they're doing."

"That's an understatement. Not just an amateur, but an idiot to boot." Stiles grabbed a transparency film and placed it on top of the aerial view that Danny made the tech take. "Look here. This half of the inner ring is Greek, this half is Norse, this ring is in Latin, and this one is Gaelic. At no point should a ritual that needs physical markings be in more than one language. Also? I recognize some of these from separate rituals. He pretty much cut and pasted the parts he liked."

"And? What's he saying?"

"He's saying he wants the perfect woman who won't sin against him or his beliefs, who will obey his every wish, fulfill his every need." Stiles handed the pictures back to Danny. "He's definitely going to need a psych consult when you get him."

"Oh, yeah? And how exactly do we go about getting someone like this?"

"You follow the money. The books where these statements come from? They're rare. Only the Latin one is common. All the other languages are parts of a whole that come from books that have maybe 2 or 3 copies left in the world. One copy of each is at the New York Library, and you need to sign in and out for the privilege of even sniffing the book case they're housed in."

"Ah, kid, you're still my favorite."

"My heart is aflutter. Go away."

Baez laughed, ruffled his hair, and took her partner with her to do their own detective work.

Stiles wondered if Jamie was working this one, and if he wasn't, he'd tell him about it.

************

"Captain? Are you alright?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Tony Stark, I helped de-thaw you."

"Well, that's not creepy at all to say to someone."

"I've got creepier, don't worry."

**************

"Villain! How ya doing? I'm gonna steal my sister away from you for a few minutes," Danny said sliding into Erin's office.

"Must you call me that?" Peter asked, rising to leave the siblings alone.

"Yep."

"Danny, grow up, please." Erin smiled at Peter as he left, turning to her brother in exasperation. "This better be good. That's the first relaxing conversation I've had all week. What do you want?"

"Aw, c'mon, sis, can't I just want to see you?"

"No."

"Right. I need to know how likely this guy is going to plead an insanity defense."

*****************

"Mr. Hale?"

"Yes, Nikki?" Derek answered as he packed up his papers for the day. Nikki Reagan waited for him patiently in the doorway.

"Do you think Stiles would mind teaching me some stuff?"

"Nikki, you're going to have to be more specific. And also, you should probably ask Stiles, not me."

"Yeah, but you're, you know, in charge. Don't you have to give permission or something?"

"Stiles can do what he likes with his time. We all like your family, so he knows I wouldn't have a problem with him teaching you. What exactly did you want to learn?"

"Some martial arts, if he doesn't mind. I'm supposed to find something to calm me down and focus, and my advisor suggested some kind of martial art or yoga."

"Didn't want to do yoga?"

"It's too easy to get lost in my own head doing that kind of stuff."

"Ah, well, go ask Stiles. Or ask your Uncle Jamie to ask for you since we'll probably see him tonight."

"They've been spending a lot of time together."

"Yes, yes they have."

"Are they dating?"

"Not yet."

**************

"Stilinski will not be a member of the Initiative, Fury."

"He's perfect for it! Put him on the list."

"No, not only would his pack come after you if his name was on the list, but Pepper would eviscerate you."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of that woman over the wolves, Coulson?"

"Pepper is scary enough that Tony does his best to never cross her intentionally. But worse than that, Stiles and Pepper would team up to ruin you. Vindictive doesn't even cover what the two of them are when pissed off at the same target."

"You can't be serious."

"That Senator that kept 'accidentally' touching Pepper's breast at the function six months ago? Everything that happened to him was them on a rampage."

"Right, Stilinski is on the list for research help."

"Yes, sir."

"And Coulson? This conversation never happened."

"I like my balls exactly where they are, too, sir."


	14. Chapter 14

"I know you're feeling stifled, Stiles, but you need security 24/7."

"Agent Coulson, I work for the NYPD, there are plenty of people there who can watch me, not to mention my pack."

"Considering another emissary was killed two weeks ago by some witch hunters, I -- _we_ \-- think you need all the protection you can get. Word is getting out that you exist."

************

Stiles was running through his katas. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept him sane, his brain in one relative space. The first floor of their building, they decided, would be a gym/sparring area for all of them to use -- and also so that there was no one living on the first floor.

Stiles felt comfortable enough here to work out in just his sleep pants, baring his tattoos without fear. Each one symbolizing plenty, a story written over his body. So he was understandably surprised when Jamie Reagan walked in mid kata. "Um, hi?" Stiles scrambled for a shirt. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your day or embarrass you," Jamie said, gesturing at his frenzy to get dressed. "It's not like you need to hide, you have a good body, and some pretty awesome tattoos."

Stiles just laughed humorously and stopped trying to get dressed. "These? They're not 'awesome tattoos, Jamie. These are the result of years of training and studying to be an emissary. _These awesome tattoos_ \--"

"Stiles --" Jamie started in apology.

"-- no, these awesome tattoos are what signify what level of emissary I am, how _powerful_ I am, and in turn, exactly how dangerous I am to my enemies. It also, just for kicks and giggles, signifies exactly how big of a target there is on me."

"Target? Stiles?" Jamie sat down on the bench next to him. "I am so sorry, I wasn't trying to insult you, I just like the way they look. But really, please explain how you're a target."

Stiles took a deep breath and began, "Emissaries used to be pretty common. Each pack had an emissary, or sometimes an area had one. Emissaries keep everyone sane, advise them on all sorts of things, are the source of knowledge and protection in a shit ton of areas. When another pack wants to speak to mine, I'm the mediator.

"About twenty years ago there were approximately 600 emissaries worldwide and half that in training to become one. Today there are 42 emissaries worldwide thanks to hunters gunning them down mostly. There's been a few natural deaths, of course, but there hasn't been anyone training to take over their positions. At this moment, I'm the emissary not just for my pack but for New York as a whole. I had no idea it was going to turn out like that when we decided to move out here."

Jamie just stared at Stiles in awe. That was a hell of a lot of responsibility to put on one person. "And then of course on top of that, I'm a special case. Something happened years ago, I really can't discuss it, but I'm immortal now. Once I turn 30 I'll stop aging physically as well. I mean, don't start calling me Connor or Duncan or anything, but yeah, I’m gonna live forever."

Jamie took a moment to digest all that. "I preferred Methos."

Stiles threw his towel at his head. "You asshole."

"Takes one to know one," Jamie laughed.

**************

"Coulson, take Hawkeye, go to New Mexico."

**************

"Stiles?  Is something wrong?" Katie Bess asked him while working on the trace evidence in front of her.

"I -- I don't know." The people around him quieted. They'd all learned from one person or another to trust Stiles about pending doom of any kind. "It just feels like something's coming. Something really, really big." His coworkers paled. "But not yet, we still have time." He went back to his task.

*************

The feeling was getting worse by the day. Everyone in the lab watched him, waiting for him to say something more on the subject, but he didn't have any more. He just knew that it would be soon.

Word had trickled up to Frank who started putting quiet plans in motion for supplies.

*************

"Well, Francis, I believe it's your turn to say Grace," Henry Reagan announced at Sunday dinner.

"Right. Thank you, Lord, for providing us with this delicious bounty. And thank you for bringing new friends into our life. Amen."

"Amen," the rest of the Reagans repeated and dug into their food.

"What new friends, Grandpa?" asked Jack, Danny's eldest.

"Well, you've heard us talk about the Hales and Stiles, right? They're new-ish friends that have been helping all of us a lot lately."

"We're helping them, too, right?" Jamie asked, adding more mashed potatoes to his plate.

"What do you mean, Jamie?" Linda asked.

"I had a talk with Stiles a few days ago, and it made me hyperaware of his location at all times."

"Jamie?" Frank prompted, putting his cutlery down. Everyone's attention on him made Jamie a bit nervous about this information.

"Stiles explained how much danger he was in, how rare people like him are," he hedged, quickly sparing a glance towards his nephews. "He has a pretty large target on his back on top of all his responsibilities."

Danny and his father had a silent conversation for a moment before speaking up. "Let's table that until after dinner. I'm thinking we're gonna need more detail than that. And you, Jamie-boy, have been spending a lot of time with Stiles. You guys BFFs or something now?"

"Shut up, Danny! Don't be --"

"Jamie." Erin interrupted, "what do you know about Peter?"

"Villain? Why you asking about Villain, Erin?" Danny asked before Jamie could answer.

"I'm just curious. I work with the guy."

"Um-hum."

Dinner continued on with light teasing, no one getting a free pass.

*************

A week later Stiles was back working his shift when he suddenly felt the need to step back from his desk. "It's happening."

"Stiles?" Mark Vocce prompted, stepping back from his computer. "Stiles, what is happening?"

Again silence was sweeping the room.

"Shut down your work, put away the evidence in fire proof/water proof containers. Get the fuck off this floor and to lower ground. Take the stairs."

"Stiles!" Katie tried getting his attention for more detail, but he was already moving. At once the rest of room burst into action. Mark called the lab head while Katie called Detective Reagan, she knew he would know who to call from there. On the way out no one mentioned the softly glowing runes on their coworker's face and neck where nothing had been before.


	15. Chapter 15

There was pressure building in the air, pressure that everyone and anyone could feel.

There was absolutely nothing good about this feeling.

*******

Stiles lead everyone downstairs, word having gotten around to the other floors. They all took the stairs without a word of objection unless they were handicapped. It seemed that Detective Reagan and also managed to get all the officers moving and they all met on the ground floor and spilling out of the station.

"Stiles, what the hell?" Danny asked moving over towards him. As he got closer he noticed Stiles was glowing, his tattoos giving off a faint blue light. "Stiles?"

"We're going to need to get everyone moving towards sturdy buildings, bank vaults, subway stations, anything out of the way of falling debris."

"Stiles!" Danny was still trying to get his attention. Once Stiles turned his eyes towards him, Danny regretted that desire. Stiles' eyes were white and glowing with power, everything about him was getting stronger, otherworldly.

"The first floor of all the precincts should be safe, I've renewed the protections on all of them, fixed those that were broken. We need officers keeping civilians calm and stopping traffic, clearing the roads. We need everyone out of their vehicles and into safe places."

By now everyone around him was silent and listening. There had been rumors about him that sounded fantastical, there had been facts about him that sounded downright impossible. Right now everyone believed everything they had previously heard.

"Move, Danny, move now!" And with that Stiles walked off to the middle of the road glowing even more.

******

Derek stopped speaking to his students, head cocked to the side as if he was listening to something none of the students could hear. He straightened after a minute, extremely serious and started barking out orders to the kids. "All of you need to pack up right now, when you're done you will follow me and we'll bring the rest of the school to a safe area."

"Mr. Hale!" "What the fuck?" "Safe area? What's going on?" "Dude, are you fucked in the head or something?"

A whistle pierced the area, everyone turning to look at Nikki Reagan. "Seriously, people, balls up." She walked to the front with her bag, stopping at Derek's desk. "Mr. Hale, what else do you need?"

"Thank you, Nicky. I need you to make an announcement on the intercom so the rest of the school follows suit. This classes job is to keep everyone else calm and together. To put it in terms you will all understand, bad shit is about to go down. We're about to be invaded."

The students didn't know what to believe, but some automatically started panicking. " _Stay calm_!" he all but growled, his eyes flashing red. "Now, I'm going to shift," he directed this towards Nicky, "so don't be afraid. I will still be able to understand you. Under no circumstances should you get in front of me. I won't harm or bite any of you, but I can't protect you if you aren't behind me." He started taking off his shirt and tie. "Nicky, I'll need you to put my clothes in my bag and take it with you. You'll be coming with me once we drop the rest of the school off. We need to get to Stiles." he stepped behind a screen he kept in the room just for this reason to finish getting undressed.

And a minute later to everyone's shock there was now a big black wolf with red eyes standing at the head of the class.

********

Peter stopped mid-sentence while in the break room with Erin and some other colleagues. "Peter?" Erin asked, concerned at the paling of his face.

"Right. Well, it seems we're in for a bit of trouble." He held up a hand stopping any comments before he continued. "Stiles has directed everyone to get to lower ground. This building has protections on it, but it would be safer for everyone not to be on the higher floors. Go get your bags quickly, laptops if they're easily accessible and start heading down the stairs."

At that moment Erin received a text message on her phone with the same directive. "My father's office just sent out the same message. Let's get moving, people!" Peter held her back from leaving the room after the others.

"I need you to take my clothes. I'm going to be shifting to my wolf form, and would rather not waste such an exquisite outfit -- expensive, too. Would you mind terribly?"

"Of course not. Go gather your things in your office, I'll come get you when I'm done in mine."

"Excellent."

******

Stiles stood in the middle of the road glowing and sending his pack instructions. He hoped that not only his pack was receiving them, but all the supernatural elements in the area. He hoped they arrived soon, as he was going to need the help for what he felt was coming.

Meanwhile, those that stayed at the station were just staring at the young man who had made himself de facto in charge. Well, everyone except Jamie Reagan, who ran right out to join the emissary.

"Stiles, what the hell is going on?"

*******

All over the city werewolves heard the emissary's request and all over the city he was obeyed.

******

Derek and Peter arrived with Nicky and Erin, joining Stiles, Jamie, and now Danny in the center of the street. "Do not shoot!" Danny yelled out at everyone. "They're friendlies!"

Stiles sighed, putting a hand on Derek's head. "You're here," he said with relief. "Thank you." Derek bumped his head against Stiles' hip.

"It's time Derek, sound out the call." Derek instantly obeyed, letting out a massive roar, Peter joining in. From all over the city wolves answered, heading towards the origin of the call.

Jaime was getting scared now, no one was answering his question. "Stiles, what is going on? Why aren't you getting to safety?"

"My place is here, Jamie. My packs place is here, helping protect. We can't go anywhere but where we are."

"Stiles," Jamie said, leaning his forehead against Stiles, "I swear to all that's holy if you don't make it out of this intact I'm going to kill you."

"Aw, Jamie, that's so sweet!"

"Shut up, asshole."

Before Stiles could respond a storm -- a very unnatural storm -- started gathering above them.

"Is this you?" Danny asked. Derek and Peter pressed closer to Stiles.

"Nope."

"Stiles, what the hell is going on?"

There was now an eye to the storm and it looked like something was coming through.

Stiles just looked up and braced himself while answering, "Unauthorized off-world activation."


	16. Chapter 16

Stiles woke up with a start, confused as to where he was. White walls, beeping noises, Derek in the chair next to the bed -- hospital. Why was he in a hospital? He tried to sit up, but there was a lot of pain in his chest telling him that it was a Very Bad Idea.

And then he remembered.

Fucking McCall, that motherfucker.

****************

"What the hell is coming through the freaky hole in the sky?" Danny asked while  pulling in closer to everyone in the street.

"You ask like I know the answers," Stiles replied watching them get closer to the Earth. "Now would probably be a good time to get people indoors if they aren't already. I'm betting panic will be the word of the day."

"Excellent idea, Mr. Stilinski," the Commissioner said, showing up from out of nowhere. "Let's go, people, I want crowd control happening across all the precincts. Civilians need to be inside, ground level, off the streets," he ordered the officer, starting movement from where everyone was before just watching the sky.

The alien ships and gliders -- or whatever the hell they were -- neared, making everyone on the ground tense up in anticipation. The wolves surrounding Stiles readied themselves to pounce while the Hale pack stayed as they were to protect their Emissary.

Jamie took Stiles' face in his hands again and kissed him passionately, yet chastely. "You better fucking survive this, Stiles."

"Yes, sir," Stiles replied with a smile. 

"Now I need you to help some of these guys with herding people off the immediate area. This is going to become a war zone in a few minutes," he directed towards the Reagan's hanging around. "Keep people from shooting the wolves, if you aren't panicking around them, neither will they -- hopefully."

***********

"Sir."

"Yes, Coulson? We're a bit busy right now if you haven't noticed," snapped Fury.

"I had, what with my bleeding all over your floor here. Thought you might want to know that it seems the packs of New York are working along side the NYPD to do crowd containment." He tapped his earpiece as he explained.

"What? How the fuck did that happen?"

"I'm going to assume Mr. Stilinksi has something to do with it, and leave them to it."

"I don't care. Just get the hell into the infirmary before you bleed out completely."

"Let Natasha know where I am, please," he requested as the medics set him on the gurney.

"After it's all over."

"What? Sir, if you do that, she's going to be pissed. _At you_."

"Just get out of here."

************

Gliders were almost on top of them while Stiles kept watch on the city through all the wolves' eyes. He directed them where they were needed, the NYPD taking their cue from the beasts beside them.

************

Reveling in the chaos he had created, Loki was distracted by magic. There was a source of magic, very light magic, and it was coming from somewhere south of him. This warranted some investigation.

***********

Tony Stark was ecstatic to see that the wolves and NYPD were mobilizing on their own and didn’t need any help from the Avengers or SHIELD; it meant they could concentrate on that pain in the ass Loki instead of the civilians.  Well, mostly not the civilians. Those glider assholes sure seem to be aiming for them.

*************

Clint Barton was so happy to be in control of himself once more -- well, as much control as Natasha let him have. Where was that Asgard asshole? He owed him an arrow or three in the eye.

************

Stiles was doing his best to shield those around him as he directed the wolves to where they were most needed. Keeping mental contact like this was draining, but his pack was around him, lending their strength. He had no idea of the site he made, standing there with glowing tattoos, eyes whited out and seemingly glowing as well. 

***********

The closer he got to the magical source, the sweeter the feeling was. It was worrying, to him, that there was a Midgardian with such power in existence, and that whomever it was, they were working against him. The Trickster God was overcome with a need to annihilate this source of magic; nothing was to get in the way of his goals.

***********

The Avengers continued fighting, trying to reach Loki before anything else happened. 

“I’ve got a location,” Hawkeye reported from a rooftop. “He’s heading to the Stilinksi kid's precinct.”

“Copy that,” responded the Captain, “We’re on our way.”

“Better make it fast, because it looks like Stiles is his tar -- Holy shit!”

“Hawkeye? Hawkeye, report! We’re almost at your location.”

***************

Some malevolent force was coming Stiles’ way and it was getting harder and harder to focus on the task at hand the closer it came. Focusing on what was happening in front of him he was shocked to see that the Bad Guy of the Day was almost on top of him and his wolves. 

But something was off. The feeling that was coming off this man was almost flickering, as if it was fighting itself or some other force.

“Dude, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” Stiles asked before Loki could even utter a word. He had a definite feeling from the Hales that they were trying to facepalm. “No, seriously, what’s wrong?”

Loki stopped approaching the young magic man and cocked his head. “You do not fear me?”

“I’ve seen bigger and badder. But there’s something --” Stiles stopped when he noticed the man’s eyes. “Ah.”

“How eloquent. And since when do the peons of Midgard have magic? What gives you the right to wield such great power?”

“Hey, Peter,” Stiles said, patting Peter’s head, “He sounds just like you! How awesome is that? Now Danny will never stop calling you Villain.” Peter bumped his head against Stiles’ hip in exasperation, wanting him to focus back on the task at hand.

“Oh, right, bad guy. So bad guy,” Stiles began stepping closer to Loki, “what’s up with the eyes? Those don’t look natural  _ at all _ .”

More wolves had returned to the area, feeling that their emissary was in danger. They silently surrounded the two men speaking, keeping any gliders and officers out of the way. The Avengers were now almost upon them, as well.

“I do not know what you speak of, there is nothing unnatural about me! Do you not know who I am? What I will do to you? To everyone?”

“I’m not actually caring that much, really. I kinda just want to know what’s up with the eyes. Bad guy monologue not necessary.” 

“Brother --” Thor began, landing by his brothers side, but was interrupted by Stiles.

“Brother? You’re his brother? Do you know what’s up with his eyes? Are they normally like that?”

“Kid, get the hell away from that guy. Don’t you get that he’s the one causing all this?” Iron Man demanded from overhead.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s completely obvious. Whatever. I want to know about his eyes. There’s something just so, I don’t know,  _ off _ about them.” Again, he moved closer to Loki, moving right up into his face.

Thor moved up beside him, being sure to keep himself somewhat between the odd human and his brother. Loki, for some unknown reason, was standing still and letting this happen.

“Brother, there is indeed something amiss with your eyes! What is this trickery?” Thor boomed in concern.

“Hmm,” was all Stiles uttered as he reached up and placed his hands on Loki’s face.

“Kid, I don’t think a mind meld is going to actually work,” Stark snarked. He would have continued, but at that point he was notified that the World Council was about to fire off a nuke without a care for the consequences. “Shit, gotta go, kiddies.”

“Wait, Stark!” Captain America called out, uneasy with the information flying through their earwigs.

“Quiet,” Stiles said quietly, and he continued with his task. Suddenly, both Stiles and Loki’s heads snapped back, looking up at they sky. Once again, Stiles was glowing, but this time he was not alone. A blue light was shining from Loki’s eyes. It lasted about 10 minutes before they both snapped out of it, sagging towards the ground.

“Brother?”

“Thor,” Loki pleaded, “you must warn them of what’s coming.”

Jamie had run back out towards Stiles during the light show and caught him as he fell. “Stiles? Stiles, are you alright?” 

Stiles just turned his face into Jamie’s neck, cuddling. “M’fine. But --” 

“But nothing, son, that was some good work. Go rest and let us take care of getting explanations,” looking at Thor and Loki, “and whatever else is left,” the Captain told him.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. But the Hulk --” and here the Hulk made an inquisitive noise -- “the Hulk needs to go catch Tony.” At that, everyone looked up at the hole in the sky where Stiles was pointing, seeing Iron Man fly right into it with the nuke. “I don’t think his suit is going to hold up that high in the atmosphere.”

“Hulk, go,” ordered the Captain. “Officer, please take Stiles home or somewhere he can recuperate.”

“Yes, sir,” Jamie replied. “That is the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Around them the gliders and dragon like things were shutting down, the invaders dying as the nuke exploded.

Maneuvering Stiles so that he could see his face, Jamie asked, “Stiles, can you walk on your own?”

“Only if you keep me steady,” he said sheepishly. “You realize you pretty much came out of the closet in front of your whole family and your fellow officers, right?” A couple of other officers came over to help Jamie and Thor bring the two men out of the street. 

“I don’t really care right now, Stiles.”

“You guys need to go help the cops find anyone trapped, okay?” Stiles asked of the wolves following along side. 

Since everyone was watching Stiles, no one noticed Rafael McCall standing by the precinct, just watching events unfold in the street. No one noticed him the draw his gun and fire. 

But everyone noticed Stiles sag, red blooming across his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [Icefallstears](http://archiveofourown.org/users/icefallstears) for being an excellent cheerleader/beta/idea wall. The remaining chapters would probably never see daylight if it wasn't for her and her patience with me.


	17. Chapter 17

“Der’?” Stiles croaked.

 

Derek popped off a text to everyone to let them know that Stiles was awake. The idiot. Feeding him a couple ice chips, he then propped up the head of the bed so that Stiles could comfortably face the pending crowd without strain.  

"Where's Jamie?" Stiles was a little hazy on the memories, but he distinctly remembered a kiss – a kiss in front of all and sundry, and oh boy, everyone saw that and they were in so much trouble and what the hell?  

"Stiles, you need to calm down," Derek said, laying a hand on his chest while glancing at the monitors that were starting to go a little nuts.  

"Oh, uh, oops?" Stiles said sheepishly, realizing that his brain running away like that was reflected on all the machines he was hooked up to. "Um, we got him, right?"

"Just hang on until everyone gets here – yes, including Jamie who went home to shower and change finally – and you can get all the answers you want, idiot."  

Knowing Jamie was fine and returning soon was enough for Stiles to calm down somewhat. He watched as Derek fussed over him, tucking the blanket around him, feeding him ice chips, letting air into the room.  

Finally, Commissioner Reagan, Danny, Erin, Nicky, Peter, Cora, Phil, Stark, Pepper, and Clint all filed in with Jamie rushing behind them.  

"Hey, you're finally up again," he said with a smile, taking Stiles' hand. "How do you feel?"

"Eh, I'm not really feeling much of anything at the moment, but I'm sure once the drugs wear off and Derek stops sneaking in his little mojo stuff – yep, I caught that, Sourwolf – I'll be feeling it all kinds of bad."

"You scared us, Mr. Stilinski," Frank told him, still remembering seeing his son coated in his boyfriend's blood. "Thought we were going to lose you there."

"Ah, that's not gonna happen, remember? And that's probably left better for a time a place not open to reporters." Stiles gestured to the man Peter had by the neck, dangling a foot in the air with camera and mic in hand. "Intruder alert?"

"Peter, would you mind walking him down to security?" Frank asked with a sigh.  

"I'll go with him," Erin offered with a laugh. Stiles was right, nothing really important could be discussed in this place, not with how the hospital was so open to this kind of thing.  

"How soon can we get the trouble magnet back to his place?" Danny asked, knowing that the apartment was the safest place for his friend.  

"Actually, if Jamie agrees to stay with him and Mr. Stark agrees to get a nurse or someone in to check on him  daily --" Stark nodded in agreement at Linda who was speaking now -- "then Stiles can be discharged now, we were just waiting for him to wake up naturally again. The wound is clean and there's no sign of infection. All of his checks have been clear and we know that safety is a concern. So go on, scoot." Linda handed Derek some of the paperwork to sign to speed things along while Danny and Jamie helped pack up all the gifts and other personal items around the room.  

Over the last week Stiles had received plenty of airtime showcasing his heroic deeds on the day of the battle. As a result he had been gifted anything from cards, candy, and flowers to marriage proposals, underwear, and bombs. There was a security detail – Stark’s, of course – going through anything that was sent to Stiles just to be on the safe side, and it was a very good precaution. All death threats were being taken very seriously.

As they all trooped into Stiles home, Frank wasted no time getting into matters.

"I'm sorry to tell you, Stiles, but once you are on your feet you're going to have to appear at a press conference."

"Wait, what? Why?" It was almost a whine and said in such a way that Jaime was laughing as he started putting everything away with Derek and Peter's help. Cora started making up the lazy boy chair area so that Stiles would have his laptop near him in a comfortable way while the nurse brought over the equipment to hook him back up to the IV to keep him on antibiotics a bit longer. He might be out of the hospital, but he still needed to be on medications.

"Stiles," Phil Coulson began, "this nurse is from SHIELD and has been vetted through our systems. She has already signed all the necessary forms and so is cleared for all the information you'll be sharing. She is aware of the consequences should anything get out and she is found to be the leak. She is also a member of one of the local packs, which is why we are so comfortable having her around. She is also going to be checking any mail that comes in, just in case anything gets through."

"Yeah, sure, whatever floats your boat."

Stiles took the time to look at his new nurse, she seemed okay. Wasn't giving anyone the stink eye or being overly curious about anything specific in his home. "So Agent Nurse, do I get to know your name? Having me make one up for you is always an option, but most people don't really choose it."

"Rachel, my name is Rachel Carson, Mr. Stilinski," she answered with amusement. "If you feel any discomfort, please let me know immediately. The bullet did quite a bit of damage and we need to be careful with your recovery not to do any more, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Turning to the rest of the group who had settled in by now, Stiles had continued with what he had wanted to say earlier. "You do all remember that I'm immortal, right? That while I can still be damaged, hurt, and brought to the brink of death, I won't actually die. When I came back in time I gave up the option of dying a final death. When I turn 30 I will actually stop aging – and I think I finally have something in place for that – but I won't die. It's not amazing, it's going to be painful to see you all pass as I continue to live on. But for now, take comfort in the fact that my enemies won't be able to kill me."

They all let that roll around in their heads for a bit before Frank pressed on. "Aside from that, we have the problem of the press. There were cameras rolling during most of the battle, and they caught everything that went on in that street, Stiles. You've become the face of the supernatural, which has pretty much been outed. On the whole, werewolves have come out of this looking like heroes in their own right. However, that can flip on a dime, so you need to come out in front of this strong and united."

"What about hunters?" Peter asked. "Are we going to inform the public about a ready formed organization full of killers that breed like it's a legacy to be handed from parent to child? Just like those that ruined our family?" At Erin's comforting touch, Peter relaxed and calmed a bit, but the question stood.

"I don't think you should. I think if you give hunters the spotlight then you're legitimizing them. If you let someone else bring them to light, then they seem like a seedy underground organization and the public might take care of them for us." As the debates started in after Jamie's statement, Stiles settled back in his chair and let it all flow over him. He was still curious about what happened after he was shot and no one had been nice enough to fill him in yet.  

"This is all very important and interesting and I'm sure at some point someone will have an interesting and important answer, but does anyone want to tell me what happened during the battle that I wasn't aware of and, you know, what happened after I was shot? Please?"

Nicky started giggling first, which made Danny break out laughing which set everyone else off. While Stiles didn't know what was so funny, at least everyone had settled down.

"Right, so Big Thunder's brother had been taken over by some guy who has a hard on for Lady Death apparently, and he sent him over here to ready Earth for a takeover. This, apparently, included setting those alien guys on us. That's what we all were dealing with. What you didn't see was Birdbrain over there --"

"Would you stop calling me that!"

"-- getting his brain scrambled by said brother, but obviously we got him back. Then Agent Agent over there got himself almost dead – but we thought he was D-E-D dead – and then we found out he wasn't at all dead, and now we're pissed at him."

"It was _not_ my idea, Stark."

"Your furry friends were instrumental in keeping all the civilians safe from falling debris and in a lot of cases finding those who were trapped from it. They helped the NYPD and all the other agencies to keep control of the city and I'm pretty sure we would have been screwed without them. I'm sure other species in the supernatural bracket were helping, but we did our best not to call attention to them."

Whacking Stark over the head, Jamie continued, "Agent McCall blamed you for everything going on with Scott, according to Melissa. When no one would step up to defend him against jail time he was pretty pissed and started trying to pull favors. His behavior started setting off a few red flags and the FBI starting looking at him a little more closely. Turns out he hasn't been such a law abiding Special Agent and they canned his ass. So after losing his badge on top of everything with Scott and his grudge against your dad -  his big answer was to try and kill you."

"But he's dead."

"He's no longer anybody's problem," Jamie reassured him.

"Well, thank fuck for that." Jamie squeezed his hand, not wanting to do more than that in front of his family.

"That brings us to our next topic with the press," Erin announced, smiling this time at the pair.

"Oh, no, we are not discussing this. _We_ haven't even discussed this yet," Stiles whined in despair, trying to stave off what he knew was going to be a very uncomfortable conversation.  

"Well, you're going to have to talk about it sometime, kid, as the whole of everybody pretty much saw him lay one on you in full technicolor," Stark chimed in.

"You," Stiles said, finger pointing in Stark's direction, "you are getting waaaaaay too much enjoyment out of this."

"It's always fun when someone else's tuchas is squirming in the spotlight. I feel no guilt. Guiltless, that's me."

"Yeah, well, our whole class will be talking about how Mr. Hale here shifted into a great big Alpha wolf and everything, but at least he stripped in private, so the parents can't complain about that," Nicky offered, trying to give her Uncle Jaime a slight way out.  

"Dude!" "Nephew?" "Derek, what the hell?"

"It was an emergency! There was a privacy screen in the room for that very reason, and Nicky followed my every direction. And then everyone in the school followed hers, thankfully. We'll see if there's any fallout once school starts back, but I don't think any of the kids had time to take a picture, so it will just be word of mouth at this point. But we were pretty visible out there in the street." Derek was doing his best to keep them all calm, but he, too, was worried about what would happen when things went back to routine.   

"Well, I for one want to take a nap and digest all the lovely things you just threw at me --"

"You asked us to tell you, moron!"

"Shut up, Cora."

"You shut up, Derek."

"-- so how about we table all this until after I get some rest, we make some press plans and then regroup with Garrett and get an idea of when I'll be able to function like a normal boy once again, plus how this will affect all our jobs?"

"Sounds good to me. I need to get home to the boys and Linda, anyway."

"I'm with Danny, Pop is probably pacing a hole in the floor wanting to know what's up." The Commissioner lead the way to the door where everyone but Jamie started filing out. "You get some rest, too, Jamie. Your CO has you off shift until tomorrow."

"Thanks, Dad."

*****

"So are we going to have the 'us' talk now?" Stiles asked, playing with the blanket, afraid to look at Jamie now that they were alone.

"Stiles, aside from the what happens to me when you turn 30, I'm just good with us taking things as they come. I like you, I really care about you, I really enjoy spending time you and learning new things with you. There's no reason that has to change. But I'm a pretty private person, and while I enjoy going to the park and playing lacrosse with you, or soccer, or whatever, I have just as much fun sitting here making fun of cop shows that do it wrong, or superhero shows, or sitting quietly on the couch reading." He took Stiles' hands in his and just held them until Stiles looked up. "I'm not really into public displays of affection, but hand holding and hugs here and there are okay. Male or female, I've always been like that."

"So that kiss was just --"

"Special, that kiss was special." Jamie searched Stiles' face, and seemed to find what he was looking for since he leaned forward, pressing another kiss to his lips. He took his time, savoring having this man to himself finally, after days of having to share him with everyone else. Stiles parted his lips slightly in invitation and Jamie acquiesced, pressing in with some tongue, tasting him. They both enjoyed the intensity of the moment, and yet knew it would go no further. There was no reason, they had time.

Breaking apart, Jamie leaned his forehead against Stiles, breathing slightly rough. "I have been waiting for quite a while to do that, you know."

"And it only took an alien invasion to make it happen?" Stiles replied with a bit of cheek.

"Shut up."

Stiles laughed as he lay down and got comfortable for the nap he had spoken about earlier. "Are you going to nap with me? No funny business, I promise!"  

"Yeah, I'm just gonna get my sweats first. Why don't you tell me about what happens when you're 30, though?"

"You mean to you?"

"Yeah."

"Um, well, it's really when you turn 30. You have the option when you're 30 of being like me, immortal. It was a small caveat in the spell so that whomever is the original receiver of the immortality doesn't have to go through it alone and thereby end up going nuts. This way they have someone by their side."

"So we have time?"

"We have time, and you can say no, Jamie. I'd understand, you know."

"It's something to think about."

"But not now."

"No, not now."

 

*****

Stiles almost tripped into the press room. He would have rathered it was a full on fall, then he might be injured and then be excused from participating in this time waster all together. But he respected the Commissioner too much to just run away from this farce, no matter how much he wanted to. And he really, really, _really_ wanted to.  

The resident Emissary had started back to work a week ago, light duty – definitely no field work – much to the delight of his coworkers. Stiles' fears of being ostracized by them were for nothing. They were grateful that he had gotten them out of there, happy that he was safe and in one peace, and mostly annoyed that he had not given them any clue he was dating the PC's son. Once he explained he hadn't been until that day, things were a little better. But now he owed them cake. "But I'm the one who was injured! How do I owe _you_ cake?" He had asked incredulously.

"It's just how it is, deal with it," was all he was told in reply. He (not so) gracefully gave in and brought in red velvet cake the next day in apology. All was forgiven. He had missed being in this geek haven, stupid alien invasion.  

And then that was ruined when he was called to the PC's office to be informed that the dreaded press conference was to occur. Finally. Apparently people still wanted to know what was up with the furry people and if they were going to start harming people now that they were done saving them.  

It started off okay. There were some questions about his health, about the man who had shot him. He quickly answered them with vague enough answers to satisfy them without making it look like he was uncomfortable or doing the pee-pee dance.

Then it started going downhill fast. "So are you gay?"

"Are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why?"

It was like watching a ping pong match for most of the spectators in the room as Stiles hit his stride. Dealing with stupid people and idiots was just a thing Stiles did well, but he wouldn't tolerate it for long. Frank was waiting for the fuse to blow, but he would enjoy the burn in the meantime.

"You haven't answered the question, are you hiding something? Are you ashamed of your sexuality?"

"I don't even know your name, lady, why the hell would I discuss something as intensely private as my sexuality with you? Why would anyone? Yes, I'm dating a guy. No, I won't label myself to appease you. No, it's not any of your or anyone else's business. The end. Next question."

Garrett seemed close to tears he was so horrified by how Stiles was conducting himself, but he was warned about the whole lack of filter before this conference began. In contrast, Frank was having a grand time.  

Stiles scanned the sea of leeches in front of him, "Smirking guy, second row. You're up, make it good."

"Charlie Randal, for the Times. Mr. Stilinski – I'm not even going to bother trying to pronounce your first name --"

"Good call."

"-- Why did so many of the supernatural come to NYC's assistance?"

"Thanks for coming through, Charlie. They helped because it was the right thing to do. The NYPD, FDNY, FBI and a whole host of other agencies also came through working together alongside the supernatural residents of New York and surrounding areas because it was what this city needed. It's probably happened before, and will most likely happen again. It's not like --" Stiles took a breath and stopped for a moment trying to think of how to phrase it correctly. "I keep saying supernatural like it's a whole other entity. What you saw that day were mostly werewolves, who normally look just like you and me. Werewolves have normal jobs and live normal lives with normal families and have normal problems because, yeah, you guessed it, Charlie, they're normal people. They just have a few extra gifts, I guess you could say. They don't eat people and they don't kill to stay alive so no, they aren't a danger to humanity, if that's your next question."

"So they aren't evil?"

"Who ties your shoelaces in the morning?" Stiles fired back at whoever had asked that question. "That is such a stupid question, can't even – look there are good people and bad people right? I mean, our jails wouldn't be so full if that wasn't true. So the same goes for the supernatural community. There are good ones and bad ones. But they are subject to the same rights and the same laws that everyone else follows."

"How could you let yourself be surrounded by all those monsters?" one reporter asked loudly.  

Stiles just stared for a moment, horrified.  

"Wow. This a huge room full of stupid." Stiles face palmed while the rest of room sat in shocked silence. "Seriously, room full of stupid and I'm seriously afraid it's contagious. It's not contagious, right?" He asked the Commissioner with a straight face. "I'm too smart to be infected with that kind of stupid. How do you handle all this stupid all the time with such grace? I never, ever, _ever_ want your job, sir."  

Stiles didn't know it, but cops everywhere watching the press conference were cheering for him.  

"How about this? You, who just asked the stupid question, I've decided you're a monster."  

"What?"  

"You're a monster," he said matter of factly. "I've never spoken to you before, never heard of you, don't know anything about you, but I'm declaring you a monster. Because I can."  

"I don't understand."  

"Well, neither do I. You just stood up and yelled out like a first grader who doesn't know to wait to be called on and labeled every supernatural creature and person that helped me that day a monster. I can only surmise that you're too stupid to know better."  

Stiles started walking out of the room. "I can't handle this level of stupid, sorry, sir."  

"No problem, Stiles, go on back to work."

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you forget your manners in front of someone who doesn't give a crap about diplomacy. I'll reiterate what he said. Everyone in this city is subject to the same rights and the same laws, no matter their faith, their gender, sexuality, or their species. I will _not_ tolerate anyone deciding that just because someone is different that they deserve to die. Good day."

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, peoples! Thanks again to my lovely beta, Icefallstears, who is made of complete win :-) 
> 
> There will probably be a couple ficlets of some Jamie/Stiles added on at a later date, but I have no idea when. 
> 
> Thank for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story. 
> 
> -Z


End file.
